LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND COCKROACHES MAY I PRESENT TO YOU THE INFAMOUS

[chroniker]

1. Post your character with a comment on this here meme.
2. Others will comment on your characters, anonymously or logged in, suggesting ships and prompts they want you to write about.
3. Anything goes, from fluffy to smut to everything in between! Also, there is no word limit, so it can be as short or as long as you want.
4. ????????
5. ALL THE SHIPPING EVER AND ALSO FEELINGS 

GO GO GO AND SHIP FOR GREAT JUSTICE

also just a note BUT THIS ISN'T LIMITED TO JUST SCRIB PEOPLE you could put your character's ancestors/guardians and whatnot for the shipping too if you want to, whatever floats your boat

Comments

[callouslystalwart]

(Oh right I guess TW violence!)

This wasn't right. Perrix was the one who gamed the system, knew every shortcut, trick, optimal build, everything. And yet this bastard had somehow appeared, somehow clawed his way out of some kind of crack in the system, as if reality itself had glitched. A glitch. That's what this... Abomination was, there was no other way to explain it. Games have rules, reality has rules and they weren't to be broken. This wasn't right.

The troll tried to think back to where something went wrong that could have led to this, but he didn't have the time. It was rather difficult to think while hurtling through the air from a SHORYUKEN-tier uppercut. It was also pretty hard to think when colliding with a stone wall, especially when you can hear something (multiple somethings?) break on impact.

Only after slumping to the floor could Perrix fix his hazy, blue-tinted view on his aggressor again: himself. Well, not precisely himself. A bizarre mockery of himself - white-haired, somewhat scrawnier, and wearing a solid black godhoodie with a white @ sign for a symbol and his very presence seemed... Wrong. It came in periodic bursts, like the static-y distortion of an image on an old television, but over his entire three-dimensional body.

"†hèRé," it cooed, "n0w yºu ©4n't ®un @wÅy..." Perrix spit. Even the thing's voice sounded wrong. Sure enough, though, he - it - was right, his left femur was all but shattered, and he'd decided to go this one alone. He could kick himself if not for the broken leg - this sort of freak occurrence was exactly the thing he planned for them to avoid. But how could he plan for something that completely ignored the rules? How could he plan for himself?

A moment later and the thing twitched over - teleported, really. The doppelganger knelt down next to the original...

...Ãnd gæve h|m /-\ £ønG-n33deÐ hug.