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My First arrival, Chapter 9"Well…that can't be right." –An Arkanian alien said after hearing about where the human's reproductive & waste system outlets are.
As we were dragged outside of the prison and into a hastily made and unkempt dirt clearing, one of the gladiators said to the other in between bouts of bawking, "Since when did chickens eat toads?"
"Before we quickly realized just how dim they were when it comes to survival. I swear," the feathered champion let out a few squawks, then whispered, "you think eating frogs was the worse? I swear some of them actually drowned whenever a rainstorm came by. They just look straight up." After the brief farm talk, Anubis, Baldric and I were thrown into the clearing and several wooden sticks were thrown near us. Actually, now that I remember, they weren’t actually sticks but more like old tree branches which is only half-fair considering that our opponents were only armed with false, beaks carved out of stone or bone or whatever they were made from
Guardians of Lower StatureA woman was kneeling down to pray in front of a closet pantheon devoted to the deities who watch and guide the people of this grand empire. She's been having trouble with a pair of Burgulars over the past few weeks and thought that her cat would have been enough to ward off the intruders. Unfortunately, he was always seen sleeping in the pile of bedsheets in a room of broken pottery and turned tables, along with a half eaten fish laying beside him. Seeing that the seven pound sacred animal wasn't living up to its reputation, and that the police were always late in coming over to stop the criminals, let alone being able to decipher the crime scene and identifying the culprits, she turned to her shrine where only half of the bronze, miniature deities remain. Seeing that she was short on figurines, she opened up a nearby cabinet where she stashed a collection of them only to find that one remained. It was a stout looking deity, one that resembled the burly woodcutters from the
Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More