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Funny Pics? No Malarkey!

Discussion in 'The Humor Mill' started by Arthellion, Dec 2, 2019.

: 5/5, 3 votes

Page 33 of 108

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May 18, 2020 #641

"Everything about you seems like Chaotic Evil. " -Majube, pronounced Mah-jew-bay

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May 19, 2020 #642

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May 19, 2020 #643

You know you're something when you can line up Arthellion, DR, and Vlad [RIP] on the same side ~ Nazgus

Arthellion Delenda Est -DLP

Scene: a fairly average cemetery, basking in the last rays of the mid-autumn sun, 70 F and not a cloud in the sky. A man, nondescript, wearing sunglasses that were popular several summers ago, but were more likely picked up after that fact, opens a gate that has seen better days. Miraculously, no metal whine occurs as he does so. All the same, he leaves it open, though whether it is out of fear of the grating sound or out of negligence is unclear.

He moves with less purpose than usually seen. It is as if he is looking for someone, but, being unfamiliar with this particular cemetery, he is momentarily lost. Yet soon, he finds a trail, and picks up the pace, moving with purpose to end up in front of one of the most recent graves. He takes in the sight: flowers, lack of tombstone - it is too recent a passing - and the wooden plate with engraving that serves as it for now. He lowers his head, offering a silent prayer, or perhaps thoughts, before leaving something of his own.

It is an engraved piece of wood, similar to the tombstone, but smaller, and far more intricate. Eagle-eyed viewers easily make out the sloth hidden behind, but the circle and large stripe across make no sense to people not in the know. As it should be. After that, the man leaves. Yet, those closeby might hear a whisper on the wind. "Finally, Arthellion is banned."

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May 19, 2020 #644

Faith.

I don't know when you gave it up, lost child. Were you never loved when you were young? Did a woman spurn you, or did the system beat you down? What hardships drove you, controlled you, until you came before me today?

It's hard to keep faith when I see children like you, broken and despoiled, then tossed aside when their purpose is finished. Oh yes, my boy, you're hardly the first ringleader I've seen down here, and you might yet not be the last. You’re full of fire and fury, just like all the ones before, but you and I both know that it’s a hollow feeling. There’s a faith-sized hole in your heart, and no amount of Warp-spawn will fill it.

You don’t have faith in the Imperium. You don’t have faith in your fellow man. You can’t even believe in love, or hope, or joy and despair that doesn’t come from an alien abomination. You can’t see the ocean of corruption, yet you’re drowning in it. You’re lost in the wilderness, little child, and only you and the Emperor can know how deep you’ve sunk.

Other lost children have asked me why I stay. Minister of a sad little church, shepard of a tiny flock, drowning in the greed and corruption from above - I’m just one man. I stand here fighting a battle already lost, with the hive in flames, the Governor and his cronies dead, and the black ships standing watch above. Perhaps there is no point to this mad universe; mayhaps it truly is a galaxy spinning adrift from rhyme or reason.

Yet the Emperor, for all his power, was just one man. Horus the Betrayer, Saint Sebastian Thor, and even humble Ollanius Pius were all just men. You are one man, as am I. Each of us may be saints or sinners, as we make of the lives given us.

I look at you, strong in Warp-borne mutations and diseases, and all I can see is weakness. You were so frail that when hardship bore down on you, and when this harsh reality sunk its claws in, you bargained your immortal soul away for relief from a little pain. Your physical strength cannot hide your spiritual weakness: where better men stood fast and died proudly, you sold out your Emperor and your fellow man for your worthless life.

So come fight me, lost children. We’ve all made our choices, and now those choices have made us. I shall bring you into His light with cleansing flame and prayers, and redeem us all in death. Come one or come all, you shall not put a foot into this hallowed ground while I still draw breath.

For I have faith, and that is enough.

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May 19, 2020 #645

DLP Dynasty Football League spreadsheet

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May 20, 2020 #646

Arthellion said: ↑

Click to expand...

You rat fuck why did you remind me of that depressing plot twist.

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May 20, 2020 #647

point09micron said: ↑

You rat fuck why did you remind me of that depressing plot twist.
Click to expand...

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May 20, 2020 #648

Evil will always triumph, because Good is dumb.

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May 20, 2020 #649

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May 20, 2020 #650

"Everything about you seems like Chaotic Evil. " -Majube, pronounced Mah-jew-bay

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May 20, 2020 #651

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May 20, 2020 #652

Forever flat to the square right…

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May 21, 2020 #653

Faith.

I don't know when you gave it up, lost child. Were you never loved when you were young? Did a woman spurn you, or did the system beat you down? What hardships drove you, controlled you, until you came before me today?

It's hard to keep faith when I see children like you, broken and despoiled, then tossed aside when their purpose is finished. Oh yes, my boy, you're hardly the first ringleader I've seen down here, and you might yet not be the last. You’re full of fire and fury, just like all the ones before, but you and I both know that it’s a hollow feeling. There’s a faith-sized hole in your heart, and no amount of Warp-spawn will fill it.

You don’t have faith in the Imperium. You don’t have faith in your fellow man. You can’t even believe in love, or hope, or joy and despair that doesn’t come from an alien abomination. You can’t see the ocean of corruption, yet you’re drowning in it. You’re lost in the wilderness, little child, and only you and the Emperor can know how deep you’ve sunk.

Other lost children have asked me why I stay. Minister of a sad little church, shepard of a tiny flock, drowning in the greed and corruption from above - I’m just one man. I stand here fighting a battle already lost, with the hive in flames, the Governor and his cronies dead, and the black ships standing watch above. Perhaps there is no point to this mad universe; mayhaps it truly is a galaxy spinning adrift from rhyme or reason.

Yet the Emperor, for all his power, was just one man. Horus the Betrayer, Saint Sebastian Thor, and even humble Ollanius Pius were all just men. You are one man, as am I. Each of us may be saints or sinners, as we make of the lives given us.

I look at you, strong in Warp-borne mutations and diseases, and all I can see is weakness. You were so frail that when hardship bore down on you, and when this harsh reality sunk its claws in, you bargained your immortal soul away for relief from a little pain. Your physical strength cannot hide your spiritual weakness: where better men stood fast and died proudly, you sold out your Emperor and your fellow man for your worthless life.

So come fight me, lost children. We’ve all made our choices, and now those choices have made us. I shall bring you into His light with cleansing flame and prayers, and redeem us all in death. Come one or come all, you shall not put a foot into this hallowed ground while I still draw breath.

For I have faith, and that is enough.

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May 21, 2020 #654

Last edited: May 21, 2020

DLP Dynasty Football League spreadsheet

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May 21, 2020 #655

You know you're something when you can line up Arthellion, DR, and Vlad [RIP] on the same side ~ Nazgus

Arthellion Delenda Est -DLP

Scene: a fairly average cemetery, basking in the last rays of the mid-autumn sun, 70 F and not a cloud in the sky. A man, nondescript, wearing sunglasses that were popular several summers ago, but were more likely picked up after that fact, opens a gate that has seen better days. Miraculously, no metal whine occurs as he does so. All the same, he leaves it open, though whether it is out of fear of the grating sound or out of negligence is unclear.

He moves with less purpose than usually seen. It is as if he is looking for someone, but, being unfamiliar with this particular cemetery, he is momentarily lost. Yet soon, he finds a trail, and picks up the pace, moving with purpose to end up in front of one of the most recent graves. He takes in the sight: flowers, lack of tombstone - it is too recent a passing - and the wooden plate with engraving that serves as it for now. He lowers his head, offering a silent prayer, or perhaps thoughts, before leaving something of his own.

It is an engraved piece of wood, similar to the tombstone, but smaller, and far more intricate. Eagle-eyed viewers easily make out the sloth hidden behind, but the circle and large stripe across make no sense to people not in the know. As it should be. After that, the man leaves. Yet, those closeby might hear a whisper on the wind. "Finally, Arthellion is banned."

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May 22, 2020 #656

Amphetamine powered.

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May 22, 2020 #657

Faith.

I don't know when you gave it up, lost child. Were you never loved when you were young? Did a woman spurn you, or did the system beat you down? What hardships drove you, controlled you, until you came before me today?

It's hard to keep faith when I see children like you, broken and despoiled, then tossed aside when their purpose is finished. Oh yes, my boy, you're hardly the first ringleader I've seen down here, and you might yet not be the last. You’re full of fire and fury, just like all the ones before, but you and I both know that it’s a hollow feeling. There’s a faith-sized hole in your heart, and no amount of Warp-spawn will fill it.

You don’t have faith in the Imperium. You don’t have faith in your fellow man. You can’t even believe in love, or hope, or joy and despair that doesn’t come from an alien abomination. You can’t see the ocean of corruption, yet you’re drowning in it. You’re lost in the wilderness, little child, and only you and the Emperor can know how deep you’ve sunk.

Other lost children have asked me why I stay. Minister of a sad little church, shepard of a tiny flock, drowning in the greed and corruption from above - I’m just one man. I stand here fighting a battle already lost, with the hive in flames, the Governor and his cronies dead, and the black ships standing watch above. Perhaps there is no point to this mad universe; mayhaps it truly is a galaxy spinning adrift from rhyme or reason.

Yet the Emperor, for all his power, was just one man. Horus the Betrayer, Saint Sebastian Thor, and even humble Ollanius Pius were all just men. You are one man, as am I. Each of us may be saints or sinners, as we make of the lives given us.

I look at you, strong in Warp-borne mutations and diseases, and all I can see is weakness. You were so frail that when hardship bore down on you, and when this harsh reality sunk its claws in, you bargained your immortal soul away for relief from a little pain. Your physical strength cannot hide your spiritual weakness: where better men stood fast and died proudly, you sold out your Emperor and your fellow man for your worthless life.

So come fight me, lost children. We’ve all made our choices, and now those choices have made us. I shall bring you into His light with cleansing flame and prayers, and redeem us all in death. Come one or come all, you shall not put a foot into this hallowed ground while I still draw breath.

For I have faith, and that is enough.

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May 22, 2020 #658

"Quotation is a serviceable substitute for wit." - Oscar Wilde

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May 23, 2020 #659

Faith.

I don't know when you gave it up, lost child. Were you never loved when you were young? Did a woman spurn you, or did the system beat you down? What hardships drove you, controlled you, until you came before me today?

It's hard to keep faith when I see children like you, broken and despoiled, then tossed aside when their purpose is finished. Oh yes, my boy, you're hardly the first ringleader I've seen down here, and you might yet not be the last. You’re full of fire and fury, just like all the ones before, but you and I both know that it’s a hollow feeling. There’s a faith-sized hole in your heart, and no amount of Warp-spawn will fill it.

You don’t have faith in the Imperium. You don’t have faith in your fellow man. You can’t even believe in love, or hope, or joy and despair that doesn’t come from an alien abomination. You can’t see the ocean of corruption, yet you’re drowning in it. You’re lost in the wilderness, little child, and only you and the Emperor can know how deep you’ve sunk.

Other lost children have asked me why I stay. Minister of a sad little church, shepard of a tiny flock, drowning in the greed and corruption from above - I’m just one man. I stand here fighting a battle already lost, with the hive in flames, the Governor and his cronies dead, and the black ships standing watch above. Perhaps there is no point to this mad universe; mayhaps it truly is a galaxy spinning adrift from rhyme or reason.

Yet the Emperor, for all his power, was just one man. Horus the Betrayer, Saint Sebastian Thor, and even humble Ollanius Pius were all just men. You are one man, as am I. Each of us may be saints or sinners, as we make of the lives given us.

I look at you, strong in Warp-borne mutations and diseases, and all I can see is weakness. You were so frail that when hardship bore down on you, and when this harsh reality sunk its claws in, you bargained your immortal soul away for relief from a little pain. Your physical strength cannot hide your spiritual weakness: where better men stood fast and died proudly, you sold out your Emperor and your fellow man for your worthless life.

So come fight me, lost children. We’ve all made our choices, and now those choices have made us. I shall bring you into His light with cleansing flame and prayers, and redeem us all in death. Come one or come all, you shall not put a foot into this hallowed ground while I still draw breath.

For I have faith, and that is enough.

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May 23, 2020 #660

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