Pimping up some tired cliches...

[Haku1]

Okay, people, this thread is for how you can RICE up and PIMP up cliches


Here, I do my version of rocks fall, people die... in panaroma vision. I've shown some of you the uncut raw version in the chat room. This is it cleaned up.


And yeah, if you want it, you have my permission to nick it to show how upset you are with a player.


***


The heavens slowly darkened as storm clouds gathered swifter then natural. A chill breeze blow, rustling the grass and leaves of the trees around you.


Slowly the sounds of the insects and wild life around fade away into silence.


A crack of thunder could be heard before the world became soundless. In that moment, a tree near you bursts into flames as it split in twain.


Another thuder crack as a small smoking crater forms beside you. Soon more smoking craters form around you in the plains, each heralded by thunder claps.


Looking to the heavens above, you see the sky raining fire, shooting arrows of fiery death at the world.


***


So, who wants to pimp up some cliche?

 

[Haku1]

The rustling of the wind as it blew across the sea of sorghum is pleasent to the ear, ripples forming around the path that you trot.


You finally draw near the hill that had been seen in the distance earlier. As you gaze at the hill, and more specifically what rested on top of it, the beat of your heart flutter.


Resting upon the hill is a gazebo. A gazebo, a simple word, and yet one that held so many connotations.


Its steep peak on its top rose glittering, refracting the sunlight, and drawing the one's eyes down its height, as it widened.


With trees in its ancestry, its sharp lines were not things found in nature, nor was its colouring a shade of white somewhere between the white of ivory and that of immaculate fresh snow.


Beneath its steeped peak, you can see a covered area, where the shade promised to cool you off, while raised protusions along the inner walls of the gazebo's interior would allow one to rest on.


Hanging from the ceiling of its interior, you can it. A lure, glittering brightly as it glowed. All the better to guide one to it in the evenings or in storms.


As you gaze at the gazebo, you can feel a growing urge to move to it, walk into its interior via the opening provided. To rest, to seek refuge from the relentless sun.


***


The dread gazebo luring in unsuspecting adventurers...

 

[uteck]

The heat from the relentless Sun poured its fury down upon the streets of the city making roof lines blury with heat.  The appointed time of gathering draws near as you approch the location that Fate as woven for you.  The rank oders eminating from the doorway do not signal any shelter from the heat, but only hint at the promise of rispite with the stench of last nights indulgance spilled from one to many mugs.


As you enter, your are stunned by the drakness, but somehow find your way through the smoke and bodies to the table at the rear.  Nodding towards the serving girl, you smile and wink as the Workings of Fate spin and bonds of trust are formed as others are drown towards the center of the web that surrounds you.


-------------------


You all meet in a bar.

 

[Solfi]

I'm sorry what's the point of this thread?

To rest, to seek surfudge from the relentless sun.

"surfudge"? Do you mean 'refuge'?

 

[uteck]

I'm sorry what's the point of this thread?
____________


The game does not conclude until the woman with the eating disorder ululates.


-- The Brain (Pinky & The Brain)

It is most ironc that you ask this question with that signature of yours.  

 

[Solfi]

It is most ironc that you ask this question with that signature of yours.  

... och nu på engelska tack?


... en anglais s'il vous plait?


... käyttää englannin kieli?


... in english please?


Is there a Pinky&The Brain-ism that I'm missing here?

 

[uteck]

It seems to be about taking tired old cliches and making them more exciting and unique.  To test if you get it, take the cliche; 'The villain escapes through a secret door after the heros defeat his plan.'


Now make that more Exalted.


I expect your post by the end of the day, you be graded on spelling and creativity.  

 

[Solfi]

aw, maaan ... do I have to? But I don't waaanna ... *whining*

 

[Forn Clakes]

Stop your whinning and get on with it, Solfi.


Chop chop, fella.


~FC.

 

[memesis]

It seems to be about taking tired old cliches and making them more exciting and unique.  To test if you get it, take the cliche; 'The villain escapes through a secret door after the heros defeat his plan.'
Now make that more Exalted.


I expect your post by the end of the day, you be graded on spelling and creativity.  

Writhe screams, a high-pitched note of terror and fury.  "Octavian was unstoppable!"  Then some awareness of his own mortality comes upon him, and the Dragon-Blood looks at the shining Caste Marks adorning the Solars' brows.  "I choose not to deal with you," he announces, snatching up the Emerald Thurible.  He wheels and casts himself through the still-open portal to Malfeas, cackling brokenly.

 

[Solfi]

The throne room of Hecubus the Defiler was an example of an unimaginative fiend. The roof disappeared into the darkness above. The few torches throwing flickering lights that played across the walls, elongating shadows and casting everything in a sinister sheen. The spikes on the walls (what possible purpose would wall-spikes serve anyway, Khalim wondered?) The dais with the high-backed, intimidating throne flanked by the skulls of some monstrosity of the Wyld. The glow-coal hearth, containing parts of clearly human remain and spreading the stench of burnt flesh and hair, disgusted Khalim in more ways than one. He felt demeaned for being here. His talents as Unconquered Sun's agent of Night felt wasted on this weasel of man.


The fool worshipped powers he did not understand, emulating and embracing "evil". The man did not know evil from his left foot. Pah! 'Pit of Ultimate Darkness' indeed. A paper tiger, yet he had managed to wreak havoc in the local region. Khalim wondered briefly how the incompetent had ever come to accrue that sort of influence, and then turned his attention back to the form lying wounded on the floor.


"Surrender or die. There are no other options" he said. He had only clipped the man. With contemptuous ease, he had bestowed upon Hecubus a few whacks about the head, and a gash or two across a wrist and buttocks. Cackling, the man rolled over, a mad light in his eyes, and a black globe the size of a large apple in his hand. "Fool! You walk into my lair, all according to my design! Your cause is lost! Soon, my plan to topple the cabbage industry of the River province is complete! Turmoil will reign supreme!". Another triumphant laugh rolled through the hall.  Khalim rolled his eyes, silently wondering what village was short their idiot.


In that moment, Hecubus threw the globe to the floor, gas flooding out and covering the disturbed overlord and quickly spilling out to cover half the throne room, including Khalim, in a thick blanket of wet smoke. In the murk, cackling changed into wheezing and coughing as the man's, obviously rehearsed, "menacing" laugh was broken by the raspy smoke. "My escape is assured, as I've prepared a route, hidden from the eyes of the righteous!", he almost screamed with fervor. The idiot announced his escape? An unnatural silence followed. This was no ordinary smoke.


Khalim cursed. He had been caught off-guard by the obvious foolishness of his foe. A mistake he wasn't about to repeat. Quickly activating one his Charms, enhancing his smell and touch, he could quite easily pick out the diminishing smell of Hecubus as he made his towards a door in the corner of the throne room Khalim had noticed earlier. "I don't think so", Khalim thought to himself quickly following suit. He reached the door, opened it and rolled in long-knife at the ready, all in one fluid motion.


The smell hit him like an anvil, his enhanced senses filling his head with searing pain. His roll ended abruptly as he hit the far wall of the small room. This was a privy. The man had fled into a privy? He could scarcely believe it! Clearing his senses, he looked around. A narrow room with a row of seats for the carnal needs of as many as ten. Where could that dog have disappeared to? A secret passage? Khalim scanned the walls for likely switches, or traces of inconsistencies in the walls. Nothing. As the lingering Essence of his perception Charm started to fade and he came to his senses more fully, he could hear a squishing sound. "No!" Khalim thought. "He couldn't have! Surely not!"


Taking a deep breath through his mouth and grimacing fiercely he peered into one of privy bowls. The dark sludge within floated lazily away from him, the stench driving tears to his eyes, even with him holding his breath and squinting. He could feel a faint breeze on his skin, and light could be seen in the distance down there. He had escaped by wading through human waste?! Rena would never let him live this down when he got back to her at the Golden Stag ... he supposed he could just tell her that he "escaped through a secret tunnel, prepared beforehand", but that was almost just as bad. He began cursing through tight lips, quickly transferring his more prized possessions into a bundle that he slung around his neck. This had gone on long enough. Taking a last quick breath, he squeezed into the bowl and started making his way towards the light, wondering what sort of half-assed attempts at diversion he would encounter.


He would pay. Dearly.

 

[Solfi]

There. You happy now?

 

[Jukashi]

... Only half-assed?

 

[Haku1]

Yes... we have some clinches pimped up.


Hmmm... I'll need to think on how to pimp up some more cliches.


For those willing to take up the challenge, here's a link to some RPG videogame cliches.


http://project-apollo.net/text/rpg.html

 

[Solfi]

... Only half-assed?

... so I wasn't paying that much attention to the thread. Sue me. It was the middle of the night for me, and I was high on caffeine...

 

[Jukashi]

No, i mean thereference to "half-assed" within the story itself. It seemed to me that the situation was at least full-assed.

 

[st_gulik]

The Higher The Hair, The Closer To God (Cloud Rule)


Vadinay stroud into the tavern proudly, his golden and flame colored hair spikes reaching almost to the ceiling, he in fact, had to lean forward when walking through the doorway so as to not crush his impressive 'do'.


He glanced around the room using only his eyes as his head was too heavy and he risked brushing against the flaming candles set into the chandeliers.


His nemesis, the boy Kit, spotted from the back room where he was siping his massive pint of beer, the bartender having barred him from drinking whiskey as he was only 15.


With a flick of his wrist and a shout for Vengence Kit projected his small frame through the air his small blade raised above his head for a downward thrust into the cold beating heart of Vadinay.


Vadinay, noticing his enemey's oh so obvious attack, even with his massive hairdo preventing his head from swivelling about, swished his arm out and materialized the blade of Fire Freaking Fears for Fourth Act Adventurers catching Kit squarely across the throat, but not killing Kit, since he wore an invisible gorgette.


Vadinay, in fear for his life, stood stock still, for he knew that if he moved about he would surely disrupt the chandeliers and set himself on fire, or worse.  He carefully narrowed his eyes because the massive weight of his glorious gelled up gizmoded hair was giving him a headache, and he whispered quietly at Kit, "Begone Runt, or I shall destroy you utterly."  Vadinay quietly hoping that the little assassin would heed his quick bluff and scamper off.  A quick downward thrust, implanting the FFF for FAA blade into the floor of the inn in front of the lad was enough, and Vadinay let a quiete sigh escape his lips.  No more would he let his kid sister talk him into the most expensive hairdo at the hairdressers, even if that guy from those FF games was trying to upstage him!