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Mercedes
Mar 7, 2006

"So you Jesus?"

"And you black?"

"Nigga prove it!"

And so Black Jesus turned water into a bucket of chicken. And He saw that it was good.


Judging. ?

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Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


Bompacho posted:

Thanks SkaandScreenplay

Hey Doof. I am in. Flash me.
We never set out to be kings but here we are.

hubris.height posted:

It must be.

I'm in, really looking forward to avoiding writing fanfiction. I'll take a flash rule.
THIS WAS NOT THE PARTY YOU ASKED FOR, BUT IT'S THE ONE YOU'VE GOT. SORRY.

RedTonic posted:

In, because why not? And flash me.

Thanks for the crit, Ska, and I agree.
The party cleric seeks to alleviate the barbarian's crippling illiteracy.

Benny Profane posted:

Thanks for the crit, Ska.

In for this week, and requesting a flash.
Just a couple of kids playing pretend. Maybe.

Killer-of-Lawyers posted:

No swearing? Characters? This is what the cleric ordered for me. In, and flash me, cause so far they've been pretty good.
Your party fighter wields the Sword of Constructive Criticism, which counts as one of your three-to-five characters all by itself. Also, your minimum is moved up to four.

Grizzled Patriarch posted:

This should be interesting.

edit: Also, since everyone is doing it and I like them so far, sling up a flash rule.
You know what my favorite fantasy mook is? Skeletons. Skeletons rule. Include some skeletons in your story.

theblunderbuss posted:

Sweet prompt. I'm in with a flash rule, please.

Also ing myself after last week's dismal failure.
Never accept free drinks.

Thranguy posted:

in, and I'll take a flash rule as well.
They can't stop us. We're on a mission from God.

docbeard posted:

The denizens of this mystic place fall upon you without warning! You face:

99 Judges and
99 Judges and
99 Judges and
99 Judges

Will your stalwart band (F)ight or (R)un?


> (I)n
> (R)equest a flash rule
> (T)hank SkaAndScreenplays for his critiques.
The party paladin is increasingly concerned over the cleric's liberal use of blood ritual and raising the dead.

Jonked posted:

I'm in and would like a flash rule.
Your party awakens in the deepest, darkest dungeon of the goblin king.

LOU BEGAS MUSTACHE posted:

in

rule me chummer
A diplomatic mission means you have to kill less people. Usually. Preferably.

N. Senada posted:

In with a flash please.
The guild accountants take issue with some of your party's more questionable expenses.

hubris.height
Jan 6, 2005



Pork Pro

Bad Seafood posted:

THIS WAS NOT THE PARTY YOU ASKED FOR, BUT IT'S THE ONE YOU'VE GOT. SORRY.



HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Fallen Rib

In! Flash me.

Blue Wher
Apr 27, 2010

The Smart Baseball Dargon Sez:

"Baseball is chaos!"

His bat is signed by Carl "Yaz" Yastrzemski


In with a flash rule pls

Blue Wher
Apr 27, 2010

The Smart Baseball Dargon Sez:

"Baseball is chaos!"

His bat is signed by Carl "Yaz" Yastrzemski



Thanks for the earworm

Djeser
Mar 22, 2013



I can't help but be in.

epoch.
Jul 24, 2007

When people say there is too much violence in my books, what they are saying is there is too much reality in life.


Be rough, it's my first time.

Social Studies 3rd Period
Oct 31, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER



epoch. posted:

Be rough, it's my first time.

Hello fellow first timer.

In and ready to probably get a new rear end in a top hat torn open!

(also flash please/thanks)

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010

I got it wrong. Look, I'm well aware I got it wrong and uh, I got it wrong.


epoch. posted:

Be rough, it's my first time.
Whoa holy poo poo long time no see. Good to have you back.

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


HopperUK posted:

In! Flash me.

DING DING DING DING

Congratulations HopperUK! As our honorary 17th sign-up, 17 being arbitrarily my favorite number, you get a super special flashrule deluxe.

Your party may be brave. They may be strong. They may even be a little bit crazy. But are they crazy enough to enter...



THE TOMB OF HORRORS?

So the Tomb of Horrors is a legendarily nasty meat-grinder of an adventure module written by the godfather of D&D, Gary Gygax himself. We're talking "Prepare two extra character sheets in advance in case your first dude gets obliterated immediately" levels of nasty. Death is on the menu.

Your characters, for whatever insane reason, have decided to test their luck and the grace of whatever gods they hold dear, steeling themselves to enter...THE TOMB OF HORRORS, which I expect you to do a little research on just FYI.



Since I'm technically throwing an established setting your way, the no fanfiction rule is kinda sorta slightly suspended for you and you alone, though I expect the characters and plot beats to still be yours.

Your reward for tackling this challenge is an extra 500 words just to ensure you actually tell a satisfying story without resorting to "Rocks fall, everyone dies." If you refuse, you'll have the same word count as everybody else along with a much lamer flash rule in place of this one.

DO YOU ACCEPT?

Blue Wher posted:

In with a flash rule pls
Supplies are dwindling, coffers are empty, and the party's starving. Time to go hunting.

C7ty1 posted:

Hello fellow first timer.

In and ready to probably get a new rear end in a top hat torn open!

(also flash please/thanks)
The party bard parties hard. Everyone else is varying degrees of done with him.

docbeard
Jul 18, 2011

High marks for compassion, low marks for survival skills





Bad Seafood posted:

The party paladin is increasingly concerned over the cleric's liberal use of blood ritual and raising the dead.


I told you this wasn't a good idea! Now look what's happened!
Come now, Doctor, everything is under control!



YOU WILL BE LIKE US

...oh, right, you said no fanfiction. Dammit. And no swearing either. What a shame.

docbeard fucked around with this message at Jul 7, 2015 around 18:48

Lazy Beggar
Dec 9, 2011



Thanks for the crit.

I'm in again. Can I get a flash please?

HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Fallen Rib

Bad Seafood posted:

DING DING DING DING

Congratulations HopperUK! As our honorary 17th sign-up, 17 being arbitrarily my favorite number, you get a super special flashrule deluxe.

Your party may be brave. They may be strong. They may even be a little bit crazy. But are they crazy enough to enter...
Your reward for tackling this challenge is an extra 500 words just to ensure you actually tell a satisfying story without resorting to "Rocks fall, everyone dies." If you refuse, you'll have the same word count as everybody else along with a much lamer flash rule in place of this one.

DO YOU ACCEPT?

DARE I DO!

That is to say hell yes I accept, gently caress it why not.

Megazver
Jan 13, 2006


Aight. In. Flashinate me.

A Classy Ghost
Jul 21, 2003

this wine has a fantastic booquet


I'm in. Gimme a good flash rule, Doof.

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


Lazy Beggar posted:

Thanks for the crit.

I'm in again. Can I get a flash please?
A noble family pays you good money to locate their missing cat. You get nothing if it's dead.

Megazver posted:

Aight. In. Flashinate me.
The party rogue goes to great lengths to hide that she's a woman.

A Classy Ghost posted:

I'm in. Gimme a good flash rule, Doof.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waa2ucfgVgQ

You split the party.

unburied
Jun 8, 2015


In.
And I hope I don't regret this, flash me.


Thanks for the crits Ska.

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


unburied posted:

In.
And I hope I don't regret this, flash me.


Thanks for the crits Ska.
Your party must contend with giant enemy crabs.

take the moon
Feb 12, 2011



id also like to join the cool club of ppl who are in and being flashed

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010

I got it wrong. Look, I'm well aware I got it wrong and uh, I got it wrong.


I am in to write a story and we may be seeing some old faces make their return.







Some of my 'dome stories have continuity between them I will let you guess which.

Morning Bell
Feb 23, 2006



Illegal Hen

I'm in and would like a flash rule

Jopoho
Feb 17, 2012


I'll throw in with a flash rule.

I wrote in thunderdome a year or two back, during a brief internship and more free time than talent. I'm back with definitely less free time to prove I have more talent. Bring it.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

in purely to make doof suffer, as i hope he will make me suffer with a flashrule

newtestleper
Oct 30, 2003


Jopoho posted:

I'll throw in with a flash rule.

I wrote in thunderdome a year or two back, during a brief internship and more free time than talent. I'm back with definitely less free time to prove I have more talent. Bring it.

Almost all of my free time disappeared fifteen months ago. I found that it made me value it so much more that I made the decision to do something awesome with it: learn to write stories in thunderdome.

Meeple
Dec 28, 2009


I failed my saving throw vs prompt. In and flash me.

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


spectres of autism posted:

id also like to join the cool club of ppl who are in and being flashed
One of your characters never speaks, but instead expresses themselves entirely through their actions.

Morning Bell posted:

I'm in and would like a flash rule
The party fighter thinks the wizard could benefit from a more active lifestyle.

Jopoho posted:

I'll throw in with a flash rule.

I wrote in thunderdome a year or two back, during a brief internship and more free time than talent. I'm back with definitely less free time to prove I have more talent. Bring it.
Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely...but it also ROCKS absolutely too.

Sitting Here posted:

in purely to make doof suffer, as i hope he will make me suffer with a flashrule
Your party has been accused of a most heinous crime. In order to clear your names, you must apprehend the true culprit.

Meeple posted:

I failed my saving throw vs prompt. In and flash me.
The evil empire isn't actually.

Jagermonster
May 7, 2005

Hey - NIZE HAT!


Almost finished with a book I've been writing (at 149k words/397 pages) and should wrap it up tomorrow or Friday. But then I need to read a book on self-editing, write a poo poo ton more (need to level up that skill, baby!), and edit it so it's not complete garbage so IN and please flash rule me.

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


Jagermonster posted:

Almost finished with a book I've been writing (at 149k words/397 pages) and should wrap it up tomorrow or Friday. But then I need to read a book on self-editing, write a poo poo ton more (need to level up that skill, baby!), and edit it so it's not complete garbage so IN and please flash rule me.
Your party consists of exactly one weathered veteran with everyone else being novice greenhorns. The veteran cannot be brooding or jaded.

Schneider Heim
Oct 17, 2012


In. Flash me, please.

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


Schneider Heim posted:

In. Flash me, please.
Two words: tavern brawl.

Ironic Twist
Aug 3, 2008

THUNDERDOME LOSER



in, fl@$h

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.




This is your party.

epoch.
Jul 24, 2007

When people say there is too much violence in my books, what they are saying is there is too much reality in life.


Strike Duty, 1,497 words

“A few extra hundred bucks,” Ed thought as he pulled the tourniquet tight on his shattered leg. He had cut off one arm of his solid navy coveralls to stave off the bleeding. The fabric was not just covered in fine coal dust, it was saturated with it; this gave him pause and he considered what effect it might have on the open wound.

“Jesus! Ed, you ok?” Reggie called from the catwalk above the coal bin. Reg’s booming voice echoed but was still almost impossible to hear over the continuous roar of the powerhouse.

The “bin” Ed had fallen into was perhaps not so aptly named. It housed roughly thirty tons of lump coal. A black, smoking mountain. Ed felt the heat emanating from under him and briefly recalled what their supervisor had told them about the bin. The coal was brimming with potential energy; each chunk of coal rubbed against the other, causing thousands of points of friction.

Sometimes, the mountain would spontaneously combust.

That’s why there were hoses spooled up every twenty feet or so along the narrow catwalk that flanked either side above it, each of them connected to the 100psi water supply used throughout the powerhouse for both cleaning and extinguishing. Reg was running down the length of the catwalk, his heavy footfalls causing fine clouds of a century’s worth of coal dust to drift down over Ed. With a few dozen feet of hose looped around his shoulder, he barked orders back at Tim.

“Keep feedin’ me slack, don’t lemme get caught up or I’ll end up in with ‘im!” Reg hollered.

* * *

Tim did as he was commanded, although normally he’d never let a database administrator talk to him that way. He was the team lead. He had organized last year’s golf tourney. But he kept his mouth shut tight, just like when he was a boy and his WWII vet grandfather had told him: “Fall in line. Be quiet. There’s a time for talk and a time for action.”

And now, two nights into scab duty, with one of his junior software engineers laying on top of a mountain of smoking coal with probably a broken back or Lord-knows-what, all while some … thing … hunted them?

No, this was not the time for talk. Not at all.

* * *

Ed shook his head and cursed his dead brother. This was Mike’s fault. If Mike were still alive, Ed would … well … do something to him. Mike was always bigger and stronger than Ed.

“Eddie. Dude. The Union only strikes, like, once a decade,” Mike had said. “You’ll make time-and-a-half, every day. Work out your arms, get a nice strong back, get some … well, not exactly ‘fresh’ air. In fact, the coal dust in your lungs might take a few golden years off, but, eh.” He shrugged and snatched a fry from Ed’s plate in the corporate cafeteria.

“Uh … I’m not fat,” Ed had said. He looked down at his wiry frame, with his slight little stomach paunch. “And I don’t exactly need --”

“No, you do need the money. Everyone always needs the money. Hell, just ratchet up your 401k contribution to the max during the strike.” He paused, then pointed at his younger brother with another stolen french fry, adding, “That’s the thing, though, you never know how long it’ll be. Last strike was a fart in the wind, man. It was, uh, two? Three weeks?”

Ed tilted his head a bit and looked up, considering it. “Why the powerhouse, though? Most guys are building tires.”

Mike made a raspberry sound of dismissal. Then he leaned in, conspiratorially, ducking his head down. “The powerhouse is where it’s at. The coal’s delivered at six --”

“AM?”

Mike chuckled and silently tapped the end of his nose. “Right-o, little brother,” that motion had always said.

“-- and by noon, hell, maybe ten, we’re done shoveling it. I mean, you don’t really even ‘shovel it’, shovel it, anyway. You just sort of baby it. Make sure it falls cleanly into the hopper. On wetter days, it sticks a little.”

“I thought you didn’t work last strike.”

“I didn’t, no. It’s just what I heard,” he said. He leaned in again. Lowered his voice again. “I tell you what, too, that’s not all I heard.”

Ed got up fast, crumpled his napkin into a tight little ball and put it on his half-eaten tray of food. “Don’t, Mike. Just don’t.”

When they were kids, nothing entertained Mike like scaring Ed to death. He’d hide outside his window in their country home, late at night, when little Eddie was falling asleep, and growl deep like a monster. He made Eddie watch alien abduction documentaries and made-for-TV horror movies. All Eddie wanted to do was watch Mr. Belvedere, but Mr. Belvedere doesn’t make you wet your bed and get Mom and Dad to yell at you for being a baby -- a baby at nine years old, for Chrissakes.

Mike grabbed Ed’s wrist, hard. His eyes were serious. The familiar “I’m gonna git you, Eddie” smile was missing. “Ed,” he’d said -- not “Eddie” this time -- “it’s real. Reggie? You know, that black D.B.A.? He saw it, man. He saw it last time.”

* * *

The day the strike began was surreal. Leading up to September 27th, the idea of the union powerhouse guys, along with all three hundred union tire-builders at the factory, actually going on strike, seemed far-fetched. Even more so than an unnamed, vague ghost-beast-monster-whatever.

Even after sitting through the half-hour pow-wow with a couple dozen other scabs, even after walking behind the engineering research center, even after the rented box truck showed up full of fold-out cots that looked -- and smelled -- like they hadn’t been used since the sixties, it all seemed like vaporware. A great promise, sure, time-and-a-half twelve hour days, six days a week, with double-time on the occasional sunday (if the work warranted it), that’s one big hoverboard or flying car of a concept.

It finally sank in that it was really going to happen, as the surreal tends to cement into the real, in the dark. When the small crew of programmers and administrators had held the last hand of poker, told the last joke about how they really, really could use some beer, and had settled down on their rented cots in a closed-off maintenance shop. Ed had laid on his back and tried to be tired. Tried not hear the other men shuffling and farting and tossing and turning and snoring. They had to spend the first night in the powerhouse. The standard technique for the strike was that, on the first day of business, the faithful brotherhood would block the entrance to the factory. They’d picket out front and form a human fence. Someone would have to call a judge and get a court order to make them move, but that might not happen until noon. It was all standard operating procedure. And the coal trucks showed up at six -- AM, remember -- so in order to ensure that the rest of the factory had power tomorrow, it was up to Ed, Mike, Reggie, and Tim to make sure the coal burned.

* * *

Ed had done the math over and over again. It had become something of a mantra he’d repeat to himself while showering, or drifting to sleep. Fifty-seven k a year, twenty-six paychecks at two-point-two grand, pre-tax, that’s about twenty-seven bucks an hour. Times that by one-and-a-half and that’s about forty bucks an hour. For twenty extra hours per regular work-week (four extra hours of O.T. per day) then you tack on beautiful, beautiful Saturday, with its glorious twelve full hours of O.T. and baby you get one thousand, two hundred and eighty bucks. Extra. Per week. Not even counting double-time Sundays. Or Holidays -- pray the strike lasts long enough to see Holiday pay, Ed. Double-time-and-a-half.

But now, laying on his back, watching Reg dangle a limp hose a good ten feet overhead (too high to reach even if he could stand up), it just felt more like a few hundred extra bucks.

Somewhere past the narrow entryway into bin #1, somewhere in that labyrinthine tangle of catwalks, pipes, service elevators, hissing pumps, blackened once-yellow handrails, flickering shop lights, rusted tools, it rested or it stalked, its belly full of big brother Mike.

Ed was vaguely aware of a change in attitude from above. Reg was running the other way. Tim had disappeared somewhere. Probably ran off. The edges of Ed’s vision began to darken. He had lost a fair bit amount of blood. Reg was brandishing a spud bar like a jousting lance. The image triggered a deep memory in his brain and Ed immediately thought of an old book he read as a child. It was about a group of friends, set off on an adventure to steal gold from a dragon.

a new study bible!
Feb 1, 2009



BIG DICK NICK
A Philadelphia Legend
Fly Eagles Fly


gently caress you, I'm signing up, and I don't care about no swears either.

a new study bible!
Feb 1, 2009



BIG DICK NICK
A Philadelphia Legend
Fly Eagles Fly


Also, give me a flash rule and a tankard of some generic fantasy alcoholic beverage.

Flesnolk
Apr 11, 2012

by FactsAreUseless


So last time I joined one of these I totally hosed up, "Killing the Necromancer" is still sitting around somewhere collecting dust. I might finally finish it and try for a redemption sometime. Until then, in, give me a flash rule if you want, and I'll even toxx for finishing this time if necessary.

crabrock
Aug 2, 2002


Grimey Drawer

OK i have a dumb idea and i gotta do it. Sign me da gently caress up

SadisTech
Jun 26, 2013

Clem.


I'm in. after failing to submit for Voidmart.

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Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:

Also, give me a flash rule and a tankard of some generic fantasy alcoholic beverage.
You are forbidden from including any of the standard menagerie of fantasy races. At least half your characters must be non-human.

Flesnolk posted:

So last time I joined one of these I totally hosed up, "Killing the Necromancer" is still sitting around somewhere collecting dust. I might finally finish it and try for a redemption sometime. Until then, in, give me a flash rule if you want, and I'll even toxx for finishing this time if necessary.
A fantastical approximation of modern day technology must factor into your story.

As an example, cameras exist in Terry Pratchett's Discworld, they're just boxes with lenses containing tiny imps who draw what they see really, really fast.

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