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166256 No.43666   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

And now for some bits from The Shepherd's Crown.

2 posts omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No.43669   [Delete]   [Edit]

Watching her, the intensity that showed on her cat's face was remarkable. This was a different day, You sensed. A day not yet experienced. A day that bustled as if there would never be another day, and with the inside of the cottage up to scratch, You now followed Granny into the scullery.

A bucket of water, filled from the pump by the well did the trick there. Granny smiled. She had always liked the scullery. It smelled of hard work being done properly. Here there were also spiders, mostly hiding around the bottles and jars on the shelves, but she thought scullery spiders didn't really count. Live and let live.

She went outside next, to the walled paddock at the back of the cottage, to check on her goats. The itinerary of her thinking was declaring that once again all things were in their rightful place.
Satisfied, or as satisfied as a witch ever could be, Granny Weatherwax went to her beehives.

"You are my bees," she said to them. "Thank you. You've given me all my honey for years, and please don't be upset when someone new comes. I hope that you will give her as much honey as you have given me. And now, for the last time, I will dance with you." But the bees hummed softly and danced for her instead, gently pushing her mind out of their hive. And Granny Weatherwax said, "I was younger when I last danced with you. But I am old now. There will be no more dances for me."

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Last edited 15/10/17(Sat)19:16.

>> No.43670   [Delete]   [Edit]

She stepped into the stream, getting as clean as could be. And now, drying herself off and wrapping just her cloak around her washed body, she went back to the cottage, where she gave You an extra meal, stroked her head, and climbed the squeaking staircase to her bedroom, humming an old dirge as she went.

Then Esmerelda Weatherwax brushed out her long gray hair and repinned it into its usual bun with an army of pins, and dressed again, this time choosing her best witch's dress and least-mended pair of drawers. She paused to open the little wooden window to the soft evening air and carefully placed two pennies on the small bedside table, beside her pointy witch's hat festooned with unused hatpins.

The last thing she did before she lay down was to pick up a familiar card she had written on earlier.
And a little later, when the cat jumped up onto the bed, it appeared to You that something strange was happening. She heard an owl hoot, and a fox barked in the darkness.

And there was just the cat, You. All alone.
But if cats could smile, this one did.

>> No.43671   [Delete]   [Edit]

It was a strange night; the owls hooted almost nonstop, and the wind outside for some reason made the wicks of the candles inside wobble with a vengeance and then blow out; but Granny Weatherwax was dressed in her best and ready for anything.

And now in the deep warm darkness, as dawn began to stealthily steal the night, her soul had a visitor, an individual with a scythe- a scythe with a blade so shadow-thin that it could separate a soul from a body.
Then the darkness spoke.

"I know it is you, Mr. Death. After all, we witches always knows what's coming," said Granny, looking down at her body on the bed.

Her visitor was no stranger, and the land she knew she was going to was a land she had helped many others to step through to over the years. For a witch stands on the very edge of everything between the light and the dark, between life and death, making choices, making decisions so that others may pretend no decisions have even been needed. Sometimes they need to help some poor soul through the final hours, help them to find the door, not to get lost in the dark.
And Granny Weatherwax had been a witch for a long, long time.

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>> No.43672   [Delete]   [Edit]

In the early morning light, in a village pond near Slice, bubbles came to the surface, followed by Miss Tick, witchfinder. There was no one there to observe this remarkable occurrence, apart from her mule, Joseph, grazing steadily on the riverbank. Of course, she told herself sadly as she picked up her towel, they all leave me alone these days.

Sh sighed. It was such a shame when old customs disappeared. A good witch-ducking was something she had liked doing in the bad old days-- she had even trained for it. All those swimming lessons, and practice with knots at the Quirm College for Young Ladies. She had been able to defeat the mobs under water if necessary. Or at least work at breaking her own record for untying the simple knots they all thought worked on the nasty witch.

Now, a bit of pond-dipping had become more like a hobby, and she had a nasty feeling that others were copying her after she passed through their villages. She'd even heard talk of a swimming club being started in one small hamlet over by Hma-on-Rye.^

^(A popular idea among the young lads, since they felt that everyone-and "everyone" definitely included the young ladies-should swim without their clothes.)

>> No.43673   [Delete]   [Edit]

Miss Tick picked up her towel to dry herself off and went back to her small caravan, gave Joseph his breakfast nose bag, and put the kettle on. She settled down under the trees to have her snack-bread and dripping, a thank-you the day before from a farmer's wife for an afternoon's knowledge of reading. Miss Tick had smiled as she left because the eyes of the rather elderly woman had been sparkling-- "Now," she had said, "I can see what's in those letters Alfred gets, especially the ones that smell of lavender." Miss Tick wondered if it might be a good idea to get moving soon. Before Alfred got another letter anyway.

Her stomach filled, ready for the day ahead, she sensed an uneasiness in the air, so there was nothing for it but to make a shamble.

A shamble is a witch's aid to inner concentration and always has to be made right there and then, when needed, to catch the moment. It could be made of pretty much anything, but had to include something alive. An egg would do, though most witches prefer to save the egg for dinner, in case it exploded on them. Miss Tick dug in her pockets. A woodlouse, a dirty handkerchief, an old sock, an ancient horse chestnut, a stone with a hole in it, and a Toadstool that Miss Tick couldn't quite identify and so couldn't risk eating. She expertly strung them all together with a bit of string and a spare length of knicker elastic.

Then she pulled8 at the threads. But there was* something wrong. With a twang that reverberated around the clearing, the tangle of objects threw itself into the air and spun, twisting and turning.

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>> No.43674   [Delete]   [Edit]

Just across the woods from Granny Weatherwax's cottage, Nanny Ogg nearly dropped a flagon of her best homemade cider on her cat, Greebo. She kept her flagons of cider in the shady spring by her cottage. The tomcat considered a growl, but after one look at his mistress he tried to be a good boy, for the normally cheerful face of Nanny Ogg was like thunder this morning.
And he heard her mutter, "It should have been me."

In Genua, on a royal visit with her husband Verence, Queen Magrat of Lancre, former witch, discovered that even though she might think she had retired from magic, magic had not retired from her. She shuddered as the shock wave was carried across the world like a tsunami, an intimation that things were going to be... otherwise.

In Boffo's Novelty and Joke Emporium in Ankh-Morpork, all the whoopee cushions trumpeted in a doleful harmony; while over in Quirm, Agness Nitt, both witch and singer, woke with a sinking feeling known to many that she might have made a fool of herself at the previous evening's first-night party.^ It certainly still seemed to be going on behind her eyeballs. Then she suddenly heard her inner Perdita wail...

^(Though Agnes does have the very handy excuse that if she behaves badly, it might not be Anges doing the Devil-Among-The-Pictsies dance on the table, but her other personality, Perdita, who is much more outgoing and, incidentally, a lot thinner.)

>> No.43675   [Delete]   [Edit]

Over in the great city of Ankh-Morpork, at Unseen University, Ponder Stibbons had just finished a lengthy breakfast when he entered the basement of the High Energy Magic Building. He stopped and gaped in amazement. In front of him, Hex was calculating at a speed that Ponder had never seen before. And he hadn't even entered a question yet! Or pulled the Great Big Lever. The ant tubes that the ants crawled through to make their calculations were blurred with their motion. Was that.... was that an ant crash by the cogwheel?

Ponder tapped a question into Hex: What do you know that I don't? Please, Hex.
There was a scuffling in the anthills and the answer spat out: Practically everything.

Ponder rephrased his question more carefully with the requisite number of IF and BEFORE clauses. It was wordy and complicated, a huge ask for a wizard with only one meal in him, and no one else would have understood what Ponder even meant, but after a big hiccup of ants, Hex shot out: We are dealing with the death of Granny Weatherwax.
And then Ponder went to see the Archchancellor, Mustrum Ridcully, who would definitely want to hear this news....

In the Oblong Office of the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, Lord Vetinari watched as his Times crossword filled itself in....

High above the Ramtops, in the monastery of Oi Dong, the Abbot of the History Monks licked his mystic pencil and made a note of it....

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76197 No.40865   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

What's your beer?

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>> No.41088   [Delete]   [Edit]
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I don't normally drink beer, but when I do...

>> No.43453   [Delete]   [Edit]
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Only because I'm a huge AVGN fan. But I do enjoy this brand. And also Dos Equis.

>> No.43491   [Delete]   [Edit]
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Being a mainefag feels good

>> No.43512   [Delete]   [Edit]
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Fresh from the source.

>> No.43556   [Delete]   [Edit]
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This is usually my go-to beer of choice, I love me some IPAs.

>> No.43557   [Delete]   [Edit]
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But I also like to crack into one of these after a nice dinner. Has an excellent malt flavor with the hops being very subtle.

>> No.43585   [Delete]   [Edit]
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Had this brand last night with some friends. It was actually pretty good. Thinking of getting a few bottles later.

Last edited 15/09/12(Sat)10:19.

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867141 No.43347   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]
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>> No.43398   [Delete]   [Edit]
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I'm missing some pages. This bugs me. But I'll post the ones I have. This is a really cool scene from the comics. I'm redownloading Vicious Cycle right now so I can recap them.

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3783852 No.43389   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]


>> No.43392   [Delete]   [Edit]

you're late to the party
this image has been floating around for quite a while now

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191582 No.43180   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]
>i lift for girls
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>> No.43386   [Delete]   [Edit]

You posted this on uboachan too

How many sites do you plan on posting this on?

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24203 No.43259   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

My system stuff or w/e!

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338421 No.43253   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

I'm an asshole. I'm fucked up and I have fucked up and driven everyone whose ever put up with me away and I can't do this shit anymore.

I don't want to be this fucking elemental of rage anymore. It's been like this for a long, long, long fucking time. Before I met you guys or PH or anyone else.
I've junked my ass up on medication, I've seen people when I was younger, but it never helped and probably because I felt it and realized the shit I get mad about to them is embarrassing. The disconnect between reality and the internet is so vast I can only feel the sting when it's all over and everyone's left me.

I been crying for a while, a long while. I just am sorry all the time and I don't know what to do besides apologize because every time I try to reel it in I just fail all over again and it's you guys that suffer from that and you shouldn't have to clean up or put up with it.

I don't want to be this person anymore. This fucking blithering child and tantrum throwing fucker. I want to change. I want to change more than anything in the world. I don't want to be the way my dad is when he's drunk, while I'm sober, just because I have a keyboard and screen in front of me. I hate being angry and hot and a mess all the time.

I want to change. I do. I swear to god and anything else I do.

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>> No.43255   [Delete]   [Edit]

Gahaha. Well... Shit man. I don't really know what to say.

What I can say for myself is that I'm a goddamn mess with a similar problem. Wanting bite people's heads off all the time, snapping about my own interests and shutting down others... Having the ever so nasty habit of treating every little thing sometimes as a competition, dragging things on when raging.

The self destructing afterwords and being a damn head-ache of a timebomb. Burning bridges for the sake of burning them, thinking silently to myself on the minor things to drop myself down and use it as an eexcuse to lash out at others.. Oooooh, how I have been there. And hell, I still am. I don't know how to get out of this sort of shit either, if anything, talking to some people, sharing interests... Try hitting me up. I've been busy with work, family divorce shit, but hell. I can help with this. Just talk to me man. Although, I admit further while I'm here. I don't do well talking to others. Taking the initiative for that... I'm awkward, so bear with me, and we can try something out together.

>> No.43256   [Delete]   [Edit]

I know I've purposely pissed you off in the past. I've even got crippling anxiety issues that make it hard for me to talk to others, but if you sincerely want to fix this, I will lend a hand.

>> No.43257   [Delete]   [Edit]

Alright, here goes nothing...

TC for the most part I can't say we've gotten along much, but we also haven't taken the time to actually get to know each other either. You seem like an alright guy most of the time, so I'm willing to remedy this if you're serious about trying to change.

Now I'm certainly no golden example of perfection either. In fact, I also am one hell of an asshole and know well of the disconnect you speak of. I feel it for a lot more than just the internet, in fact. I can barely bring myself to care about anyone I don't know personally, and well at that, and even then it takes a true effort to actually get me to care about another person.

But you seem to honestly want to change, and I will respect that and try to help. If all goes well, we'll both better each other from it.

But I don't know how to help you, and won't try. Instead, I offer to try to be a friend. A friend is better than help, and hopefully longer lasting. Hit me up on skype sometime, we'll shoot the shit and get to know each other. Who knows, we might even end up being fast friends. Just, you know, bear with me. I realize I'm probably pretty hard to get along with sometimes.

But either way, I'll try if you will.

>> No.43258   [Delete]   [Edit]
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I guess I should do better than ask you "How" so I'll elaborate.

Who better to come to you with advice about self-destruction than I?
I'm angry all the time. Even when I'm happy. Anger is the driving force that keeps me going, it's what keeps me from being depressed. It motivates me, inspires me, fuels everything I do to the point of self-destruction.

I don't cut myself, but I have resorted to self-mutilation many times while angry. I don't have a win-all solution for you. I don't think anyone does. And I don't think anyone should be coddled. I've told Mari time and time again, that if I am too much of a hassle then she should just ban me and get it over with.

I follow a lot of George Carlin's ideology as if it were its own religion; people are stupid, they do stupid things, and I don't expect anything smart to come out of anyone. Especially not anyone who claims they're intelligent.

I've grown more and more pessimistic over the years to the point I don't give a flying fuck about most things. I try to show compassion when I can.
It's said that underneath every cynic is a disappointed idealist, and it's there. I want to be that idealist. I want to be a different person. I want to be a nice guy who doesn't have to run on anger.

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>> No.43261   [Delete]   [Edit]
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I'm hoping that you keep your word. Don't you dare put it off, don't just say it, you NEED TO DO IT. Promise yourself or else it will never work.

Welcome to the pit of loneliness when you shove those that bother to stay with you away. I couldn't talk to you at all and when I bothered, you just get upset at the little things I did.

Anyway, no one is perfect, there's far, far too many broken people in this world. No one wants to be alone and what keeps us out of that pit we call despair is those that bother to care for you. All we have are each other, trust is a brittle thing, one slip and it will break.

My suggestion to you is to think to yourself enough is enough, if you can't tell me anything, how am I going to help you? I don't care what anyone else says, stay away from alcohol, if you're using it to sub-side that depression and anger then you're just going to keep going to it. Be open with people, that's right, be open. Men are forced to hide their feelings to not look weak in front of others, "we the men who should hide our feelings" bullshit. Don't buy into that, you probably don't but I want to remind you we're human, YOU'RE human, we have feelings too.

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>> No.43262   [Delete]   [Edit]
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It's not just others you need, you need to help that little you inside that is afraid in the dark as well.

>> No.43274   [Delete]   [Edit]
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You're probably better at this point, but I'll bite. It's an excuse to let off some of my own issues while attempting to help someone who's just as emotional as I am.

Just like you, I get pissed off a lot of things, paranoid about a lot of things, I'm so fucking jaded Chinese dragons are left in the dust and on top of that I have so much anxiety that most of what I want to do in life is put off repeatedly because I'm too scared. I was going to help you earlier because I was scared about being criticized for "not having enough problems to post in this thread to warrant helping someone I'm cool with", but fuck it. I can't let that bullshit stop me right now. It's a hard road to overcome TC, the shit just sticks with you and any help I give you only means as much as you're willing to help yourself along with it. Rant to me or something, so I can rant back and we can have our rant sessions about shit that makes us mad.

Sometimes letting off that anger to someone who will listen is a good thing. Anything else is practically the same as before: Don't push those who are willing to listen to you away and all that jazz. It's really hard to type this up with a stomach that's burning with anxiety and Cayenne Pepper and a boat full of thoughts that I want to let loose after what I just saw. Hit me up, better yet I'll hit YOU up.

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