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Tell me something, and I'll not-draw it. I'll write a short story about it, instead.

No ero-fic, please.

A man eating his toast as he ponders the finer things in life like indoor plumbing and watching paint dry.

How about you finish off where KS ended- and on any arc. I want closure, dang it.

Here… I got this.

For every route other than Emi's: Hisao decides not to pursue science and good health and dies at the age of 30.

For Emi's route: Hisao pursues science and is athletic, living to be 70 and making many contributions to the world while chilling with his pirate-waifu Emi and his bros the Nurse, Rin, and Mutou.

It was a rather small cafe, Mr. Devren thought to himself. He didn't remember how he had come to frequent this place, only that it had been a long time ago, and his routine hadn't changed since. Two pieces of toast, buttered, and a small coffee, cream, no sugar.

Mr. Devren was a philosophical man by nature. His job at the accounting firm didn't lend him much entertainment, so he used his free time to think about the deep ideas that swam through his head. It seemed to him that life wasn't so simple as people made it out to be, though that was obvious. Rather, it was unexpected depth that caught his attention; depth that could only be found by truly searching for it.

Mr. Devren glanced over at the park across the street, the natural view point from his seat outdoors. His scanning eyes caught sight of a bench that had been painted earlier that day. What had once been a rusty metallic color was now a dark green, much more appealing to the sight with the bright spring colors. A large sign stood next to it with the bold words, "DO NOT SIT; WET PAINT". Mr. Devren couldn't help but smile at the immense inconvenience such a simple thing as drying paint could cause people. That bench was inaccessible to anyone who had even a moderate attachment to their clothes for a good period of time.

Thinking about inconvenience, Mr. Devren was suddenly drawn to the idea of indoor plumbing. It was odd how revolutionary the idea was, and yet how easily it was taken for granted. It made Mr. Devren sigh with disappointment that he wasn't more grateful for the technology that had been developed. He took a bite of toast, and chewed slowly, thinking over other technologies that he had let pass in his mind from importance.

It really was a small cafe.

The life of a Carbon atom.

a man sitting on a mountain while he sees a giant bird

I would like to know just how small this cafe is. Tell me more about its double frappuccinos and paisley wallpaper.

Something post apocalyptic. With ninjas.

I loved it, you are a genius.

Me and Iambob on a date that ends in awkward sex and Kalmo shits himself

@Gamzee

You and your strange sexual fantasies. I have no objections though.

Hisao suddenly awoke. The pitch-black darkness was confusing to him, until he realized that the newspaper he had been reading was covering his face. He pulled it off and folded it, putting it on the floor next to his chair. Standing up caused him to stretch; he had apparently been asleep longer than he'd thought.

Suddenly, a crash came from the other side of the house. He was startled for a second, but realized quickly where it had come from. Smiling, he stroked his goatee, and headed down the hall.

The door creaked a bit as he opened it, but he knew it wouldn't be noticed. It was dark, just as she liked it, but he could still see enough to maneuver through the obstacles throughout the room. Easels dotted the floor with half-finished paintings. boxes of brushes could be seen in the corner, along with other supplies. He continued to scan the room until he saw a figure hunched in the corner. Her back was to him, but he could still see the brightness of her auburn hair from the minimal light of the cigarette in her mouth.

He silently wished to himself again that she hadn't gotten into that habit, but he couldn't blame anyone but himself. Besides, she only did it occasionally, when she was focusing on a large project.

"Hisao."

The mention of his name surprised him slightly; he wasn't aware she had heard him come in.

"Yes?"

"I need velvet purple."

He chuckled, remembering the tradition that had arisen over the years.

"You know I don't know which one is velvet purple."

He saw her small shoulders shrug iconically. Her response was short: "Just bring a purple, then."

He sighed, smiling again, and walked over to her. He then kneeled down, and nuzzled his face in her hair. It hadn't been washed in awhile, but he didn't mind; it smelled like paint, which was a smell he had come to love. She made no reaction, but continued to move her foot in sweeping motions across the canvas on the floor.

Hisao suddenly remembered why he had entered the room. "What was that noise?"

The motion of her head sent his gaze to an easel on the ground. From the angle and distance, it looked like she had knocked it over on accident with her foot. It made sense; it was rather cluttered in the room, and one large stroke could have knocked anything over. He nodded in understanding, and a small gap in conversation took hold.

"How is it?"

"The lab? It's fine; we're currently working on some research into nitrogen fusion."

He knew she didn't know much about his work, but she cared, and he wanted to be able to share his life with her.

"What do you think fusion looks like?"

Hisao paused, unsure of how to respond. She read into this and continued.

"It makes me think of colors mixing, but only in a way that doesn't work. Like they're mad at each other."

For the first time, she turned and looked at him. She looked different than she had in high school; her hair was longer and better groomed, though still messy in this state, and she had started wearing lipstick. Hisao wondered why it had only been lipstick; probably because it was the only easy thing to apply. But it didn't matter to him; she looked beautiful to him no matter what.

"Do you think nitrogen is ever mad?"

"Maybe. It seems like that sometimes."

He then leaned down and kissed her forehead. As he finished, she stretched up and pressed her lips to his. He could feel the awkward passion flowing through her; it was a passion that made him love her all the more. It was like she couldn't express it save in bursts. He never could understand it completely, but it didn't matter to him anymore. All that mattered was that he knew it was there, and it was there for him.

They slowly broke from the kiss, and Hisao couldn't help but glance at the necklace around her neck. At the end of it was a small golden band. He smiled, thinking back to the day that he had given it to her. "How long do you think you haver until you finish this piece?" he asked.

Another shrug. "Whenever I get velvet purple, I suppose."

He laughed, and walked over to the paints, and grabbed what looked like velvet purple. Bringing it to her brought a nod and a slight smile; he had guessed right. After pouring some of it out for her, he stood there for a second, and then commented, "Well, don't take too long. I want to take you out somewhere special tonight."

She nodded, and then turned back to her canvas. Without breaking stride, she continued to paint, changing the tone of the piece completely with this new color.

After watching for a bit, he turned back, and started heading to the door. Just as he was about to exit, he heard his name once again.

"Hisao?"

He turned back towards her. "Yes, dear?"

Her deep green eyes were focused directly on him.

"I love you."

A smile crossed his face as he savored the moment, and looked into the green eyes of his beautiful wife.

"I love you, too, Rin. Happy Anniversary."

I SAID NO ERO-FIC GAMZEE GAWSH

THE FUCK IS A ERO FUCK FIC?!

EROTIC FICTION GAMZEE GAWSH

THAT'S MY FAVORITE KIND OF EROTIC FICTION

Are you willing to do a crossover piece?

I have something in mind…

March, 2011. Imran Zakhaev has been tracked to an ICBM launch facility in the Altay Mountains, in Russia.

A combined force of US Army Green Berets 1st Battalion 5th Special Forces Group Delta Company "Ghost Recon", US Marine Corps 1st Force Recon and Royal Army Special Air Service 22nd Regiment, with close air support provided by US Air Force Special Operations Wing 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron "Wardog Squadron", have been deployed to locate and kill Zakhaev.

However, during the initial drop, USMC Force Recon Staff Sergeant Griggs misses the intended landing zone and is forced to trigger his emergency distress beacon. The other allied ground units in the zone must locate and rescue him before proceeding.

(In effect, weave together the storylines of Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War, the original Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon and Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare. This starts at the beginning of Ultimatum and ends at the finish of Game Over. Think you're up for it?)

Ok… I have a proposition for you. I can write the erofic, and Brawler can write the normal, nonperturbing pieces. Sound fair?

Nah, it's ok, I'll write it.

I'm already half-way through with it, Andrew… It will be saucy. It will be raunchy. It will be campy. But above all else, it will be Patricky.

Fair enough.

So, tell me… AMIDOINITRITE?

SO PATRICKY.

Also, obviously Japanese in inspiration. :P

It was Kalmo. He was swinging a fake sword around, shouting. Suddenly, he made a strained noise, and stopped swinging his sword around. He walked over to Gamzee, who was frozen in fear, and leaned in close.

I just made boom boom in my pantaloons.
.

That shit made me laugh waaaaaaaaaaaay too hard.

I tried to make the sex scene as awkward as I could… While I'm not entirely new to creative writing, I am new to erofic.

And, yes, it is Japanese in inspiration… I haven't really read any erofic, but I have seen enough anime to do a stereotypical first date turned awkward intimate moment.

Also, I feel dirty now. I blame Gamzee.

you know it bro.

@ the fic

So, Brawler.

How's my request coming along? You know, the Ghost Recon/Ace Combat 5/Call of Duty 4 crossover?

EDIT: Don't mean to rush you, of course. The good stuff's always worth the wait.

Patrick, two things:
1) That story has scarred me mentally. Congratulations.
2) Draw me like one of your french girls.

I'm doing them in order of request, and for whatever reason, Quantum's "Carbon" request is giving me trouble.

Don't worry, I'll get to it.

Just take your time. You'll make it work, I'm sure.

Also, I figure I ought to clarify the exact timeline of the story I want you to write:
2008: Zakhaev launches coup d'etat in Moscow. Ghost Recon deployed to Caucasus.
2009: War escalates. Ghost Recon redeployed to Baltic region.
2010: War escalates further. Zakhaev launches attacks on Alaska as smokescreen for Khaled Al-Asad.
2011: Coup put down, Al-Asad killed in November 2010 by SAS. Berlin, controlled by Belkan Party, falls in February 2011; less than a week later, Moscow liberated from Zakhaev's forces. Imran's son Victor commits suicide in March. Later that month, Imran seizes ICBM base in Altay Mountains.

That give you an idea of exactly how this takes place?

EDIT: Also, the bit I want you to write is strictly in March, 2011, after Zakhaev takes the ICBM base. Just wanting to make sure you know what to write.

I think the Carbon atom would have been part of a nanotube right now, Teh Brawler.

:D

I kid.

This is officially Bob's new avatar.

I posted it on his wall a while back… Now we play the waiting game…

I'm tempted to try and think of another story for you, but I feel like you kinda have your hands full with the ones that have already been requested… So, instead of asking for a new story, I'm requesting that there be a twist of Shyamalanian proportions in one that's already been requested.

Here's one: Dinosaur pirates, do with it what you can.

can you write a story about my picture?

Teh Brawler… Explain… THIS!

>do with it what you can.

Gladly.

INB4 Brawler writes a story 200 times better.

There once was a carbon atom. He lived, made life and died. The End

ON TO BETTER THINGS

I will write the cross overs of Teh Bawler and Patrick, just tell me what stories to cross over.

cross my date with Iambob and the dinosaur story.

IT HAS TO BE BETWEEN TB AND PATRICK OR I WILL END UP WRITING THE EXACT SAME THING JUST WITH 4 CHARACTERS BECAUSE PATRICK'S ARE ALL SLASH FICS.

There was this particular mountain in the country that caught people's eye every time they drove through the right part of Colorado. It wasn't that the mountain was particularly large or impressive, or that it had the nicest trees or the whitest snow. No, what made that mountain so interesting is the stories that surrounded it. Supposedly, there was an eagle that lived on that mountain; an eagle the size of a small airplane. The local town told stories, sold t-shirts, and gave tours, which is probably why the mountain was so popular. Of course, no one had ever seen this bird. That's what made it so interesting; this eagle was the town's bigfoot, the legendary beast that everyone had proof of but no one had seen.

It was this bird that no one had seen that had made James decide to camp out in wait. He was currently sitting in his favorite camping chair, whittling away at a block of wood he had brought to pass the time. It had been about five hours since he had climbed to the peak and set up is tent, and he was ready to wait for days if he had to. His camera was set up to take pictures of the sky at the slightest movement, and his eyes continued to flick back and forth.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swirled around him. It was shockingly cold, not because it was uncharacteristic of the area, but because James wasn't wearing his jacket. He instinctively curled up slightly, drawing his arms to his face for protection. Suddenly, he felt a shadow cross over him. A large one.

Looking up quickly, he saw a brown blur dive out of his view. There was no doubt in his mind; it had been the eagle. Dropping everything, he took off in the direction the bird had flown, sprinting towards the trees. However, upon reaching the cliff, he realized that the bird had vanished. Disappointment flooded through him, until he realized that his camera was still set up; it had likely taken pictures. Ecstatic, he sprinted back up to the peak, jumping over logs and dodging trees.

Within seconds, he reached his tent again, and shot towards where his camera was. WHat he saw made his face fall; his camera had been knocked over in the wind, and was lying lens-down in the dirt. James ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, and looked to the sky. It seemed like the giant eagle didn't want to be found.

Hey now, I said Iambob lacked a penis in that post, and the other dinosaur was also of the female persuasion! That's not slash, that's hetero!