yoteborg

Do you know what it's like to live in constant fear? To have your every step dictated by the shadows of your own imagination? There are demons that haunt me, monsters that lurk in the recesses of my mind, and they all take the form of pixels and lines of code. Roleplay servers are morally abhorrent.

@Fizzlestat Totally needs to be a full mod sometime. Handles a lot of the basic reports and is the backbone of orderly late night RP.

Name: vigilantejourno Comment: God, who knew we had such depraved minds in modern day LS? Lock her up and throw away the key.

SIM HOMELESS "LIVING ON THE STREETS IS TOUGH... BUT IT'S ABOUT TO GET TOUGHER!" The drugs numbed the pain. Funnily enough, this wasn't the first beatdown he had gotten tonight. But this one felt particularly humiliating. He looked up at the sky in a haze, seeing various little beady eyes and flashes of smartphones taking pictures of him in this compromising position. Then there was ponytail. Smirking down at his victory. After a minute or two, he was helped up by a strange-looking man, wearing a mask. Graciously, he accepted the wad of bills offered to him after the fight. Yet also bundled in the man's hand, given to Guy was a small glint of metal. All he had to do, was make a pretty damn good enticement. Guy grabbed the bills he had collected from panhandling, and stuffed them into his coat before heading for the gas station. Ponytail was gonna pay. The high was starting its slow burn of a decline, yet he still had some bravado. Everything went by in a flash once the men stepped out the door. He feigned fear, sprinting directly towards the back of the gas station. Chased down the alley by two men, his pursuers were stopped by a machete's blade. There was much blood, and the next thing he knew shots were fired off. The sting of lead pierces his arm, hitting something /good/. How he found the masked man, he didn't know. But he wasted no time hopping on his bike. They arrived with seconds to spare at the nearby hospital, Guy being dragged into the building with critical injuries. The next few hours were just as much of a haze as the heroin- hell. He was probably being given some opiate. All he knew was that it felt good. It felt good to finally take a stand.

I actually heard this server compared to DayZRP in the statement that "mods are much more anal on here if you think this is bad". Their words, not mine.

I really don't think it matters, personally I believe people should be able to speak their mind without explicit consequences. So what if an admin needs to take an extra minute to look through the posts. Matters more than telling people they can or can't do something.

Stopped at "start being more strict". We don't need more censorship.

Kindly Stop for Me Two weeks later.

Courtesy of the Balkan Diaspora So this is what he had devolved into. A killer. Some rent-a-clown that could be hired for pennies on the dollar, and a thief. Well that's what he had grown accustomed to, and this is America. Capitalism is a hell of a drug. As he lowered his gun, looking over the man's lifeless body, he could feel nothing other than a brief adrenaline rush. A quick search through his pockets wielded only a blood-soaked pack of cigarettes and a small bottle of water. Waste of a life, and a robbery. As the mostly empty area provided him solace to do the deed, Aerin quickly hauled the body to the thing's old car. Panic took hold fifteen minutes later, in an undisclosed location. He had gotten word that a compatriot had been shot. Since the clock to the head, it took him a little to remember his place. Who he was. His certain obligations. He phoned up the first person he trusted that would be able to help. The Cleaner arrived soon after, to fix his mistakes. Courtesy of the Balkan Diaspora. He was a middle aged man, no more distinct than the average Sandy local anyone would see on the street. Aerin's heart raced as the man's truck pulled up loaded with various equipment. The Cleaner gave him a short nod. With a hasty introduction, the man was soon introduced to what remained of Niljan, in the trunk. His body was shot to pieces, having exsanguinated heavily as bits of brain matter stained the corpse's trunk. He sighed and quickly wrapped the body up with tape, letting Aerin tie its legs together with a sailor's knot of rope. It would serve to keep the body nailed down to the ocean floor, Neptune's own natural weights holding it down to decompose him in the salty waters. So it was done. The first problem he had to take care of. Oddly enough Aerin couldn't feel a thing as he lobbed the corpse into the water with the help of the Cleaner. He just figured it as one more obstacle, a mistake that couldn't be found out by anyone. A bullet to the brain was better than leaving him to bleed out and die on the floor, right? He argued with himself before the illusive man turned to him, asking only a favor from his superiors in time. With no cash to pay for the job, Aerin had to agree. Getting rid of the dead guy's car would be a first. Removing the dark blood that coated his gloved hands second. And finding the bastards that shot his compatriot and left her for dead in the cold water of the Pacific, would be the cherry on top of the cake.

Username: zackityheadquartersComment: habibi means beautiful :)

username: athensurep comment: Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha