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- >you are at Acteus’s house, taking a break from constructing the mancave fort you both had planned, sitting on the couch across from Acteus on his own recliner
- >the fort is nearly finished, you just have to put in the drywall and furnishings
- >but that’ll have to wait
- >Acteus just challenged you to a Bloodlines game in Dwarf Fortress
- >he’s been playing for a while now, and seems to have gotten the hang of it
- >Bloodlines goes a bit like this: You control the fort for a certain amount of years (in this case, one), then you give control to him, and after his year limit is up, you get to command the fort again, ad infinitum
- >that is, until one of you lets the fort crumble
- >rules are slightly modified, as normally a lot more people play and nobody really gets control again, but nobody else in town wants to sit at a computer all day for some reason
- >”So, Anonymous. What do you think?”
- >this newfag could stand to use an asswhoopin’
- >erm, not the sexual kind
- “I accept the challenge, but under one term:”
- >you smile
- “If I win, you have to-”
- >”OOOH, no, I am /not/ sucking your cock!”
- “No, no, no, you misunderstand! If you lose, I want you to do ALL the heavy lifting in your mancave. All the furniture, all the drywall. Everything.”
- >”Fine. But if I win…”
- >Acteus smiles a smile more devious than yours
- >”You have to suck my dick!”
- >goddamnit Acteus
- “That’s hypocritical, and you know it!”
- >”Oh, you must too afraid to play, knowing that you’ll soon be having THIS-”
- >he whips his large, flacid, black cock out
- >”-In your gob!”
- >you reel backwards a bit, horrified at the thought of the perverse act, and ignore your own acts of the perverted kind
- >but you steel yourself; you’ve been playing DF for years now, and Acteus just started about a month ago
- >he’s no match for you, and you know it
- “Alright, I accept!”
- >”I hope you like thick, juicy hotdogs, Anon.~”
- “Fuck off. Prepare to have numerous spine injuries!”
- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
- >It is year twenty in your little fortress, your own year to do things
- >things are going to shit fast, but it’s Autumn now
- >you only have to hold out until Spring next year, though, and then Acteus will be buttfucked into oblivion by all these shitty fucking bees that are god-damn everywhere
- >’Urist mcDislikesbees cancels move important fucking stone: stung by Asshole Bee’
- >’Urist mcAsshole cancels build wall: stung by Asshole Bee’
- >over and over again, spamming the announcement box with these messages
- >pieces of shit
- >but aside from the only Very Annoying bees, there’s the obvious threat of the giant rotten megabeast that just showed up
- >it’s a giant parrot with deadly blood, and some ribs on the outside of it’s body
- >also it’s reviving all these corpses of things you slaughtered, as well as the severed body parts
- >no wait, that’s just the fucking necromancer
- >luckily, your entrance has collapsed just now, so they can’t get in
- >unluckily, the cave-in also destroyed your farm plots, the only real stable source of food
- “Acteus, couldn’t you have put proper support in those farming rooms?”
- >”You ass, you could have done that years ago.”
- >welp
- >now to starve everyone to death
- >implying they won’t go berserk and kill everyone else before that, considering fifty of your seventy-five dwarves were trapped outside building a perimeter wall
- >oh good, they’ve rose from the dead seeking flesh, how nice
- “Couldn’t you have ordered that wall to be built earlier?”
- >”No, because I wanted to try and get rid of the gaping rectal cavity in our fort known colloquially as ‘bees.’ Unfortunately, it didn’t work.”
- “I can see that.”
- >a message pops up at the bottom of the screen, stating that it is now Winter
- >Acteus is clearly terrified at this
- >”Shitshitshitshitshit-”
- >he runs around the room, fluttering his wings and getting dust on everything
- >the game pauses as a message comes up reading something vaguely along the lines of:
- >’Urist mcFuckyofort has gone berserk!’
- >here comes the tantrum spiral
- >the enraged dwarf runs through the narrow underground tunnels, destroying all in his way as it nears the end of the year
- >he doesn’t even allow them to get mad at him for slicing them up
- >fucking professional swordsdwarves, man.
- >as the horrible monstrosity that used to be a sane dwarf reaches the last miner in your fort, as well as the last one alive, the year end is nigh
- >this is it
- >the end
- >now you’ll have to suck mothdick
- >i-it won’t be that bad, right?
- >Acteus just looks at you and cackles
- >the swordsdwarf reaches the miner…
- >...swings his sword…
- >...and gets a pickaxe to the brainpan
- >he drops, dead, to the ground, and the timer ticks over to a new year
- >all that’s left is the miner, now huddled in a corner of a bedroom
- >Acteus stops the laughter, and looks at the screen, bewildered
- >”I…”
- >”...”
- >”...Shit.”
- >mere weeks later in-game, and the poor dwarf starves to death
- >Acteus hangs his head as you cheer in victory, free from the terror of having to swallow moth-sperm
- >that night, you sip a banana smoothie while Acteus hauls all the furniture around and puts in the walls.
- >It’s a great to be a ‘professional’ DF player
- >Acteus didn’t complain, but he did swing his limp cock in front of your face a few times
- >and so, when you both finished construction, you forgot past differences and danced the night away with your new dico-ball and dance floor, drinking from your sweet new beer-dispensers all the while
- >and as Acteus begins fall asleep on the large sofa-bed combo you (or rather, he) brought down here, you lay down next to him, tired from dancing and drinking
- >as you lie there, drifting off to sleep, Acteus slowly wraps his tired and drunken hooves around you
- >you don’t even bother removing them from yourself as you fall into the wondrous void known as sleep
- [END]
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