Looks like Lord Boinkington is having trouble accessing this site.

His ramblings will have to wait

Tempted to cross post to the Star Trek thread but ya know Trekkies. Eeesh. Let’s see how it goes tomorrow.

It is I, Ux The Inhuman Centipede. I have heard this challenge as it rang out across the Brood. My children are hungry and our warriors stand fully erect.

It will begin.
I will find you.
I will taste you.

Ugh, 1 more still needed. COME ON.

Yeeeeeeees, join. My proboscis is throbbing and sticky at the thought.

ITS STARTED

Hmmm, Harlots.

I am listening to Earth music I believe is by the Goods Harlot. It has taught me much about Earth culture and the lifestyles of their so-called Rich and Famous.

Space Log: Cycle 1 - Tick 44

There is less and less space to grow. A few small, accidental skirmishes have broken out across the galaxy. Several borders apparently heave with incoming reinforcements. Other leaders chat shit about each other, sometimes publicly, sometimes covertly.

I arrested several spies today. They are being interrogated as we speak. Sooner or later, someone will attack. I am ready to defend myself and my allies.

The Sandsayer Prime has spoken. God-storms brew and boil across the galaxy. A cataclysm approaches. To appease the Ancient Kings, blood must be shed. Heads must be taken and buried beneath the sands of Atlas. All will fall in this Holy War of dust and blood. All will be flayed but those who appease the Emperor of Sand, the Sandsayer Prime, and the Hungering Witchqueen of Avior.

The malcontent warmonger Dr Proddem must be incarcerated once more in the sunless prisons of Homam. How he escaped is unknown to even the sandscryers. May the dustwyrms gnaw his eyes into atoms.

Hello Mr. Sand. I'm not familiar with your doings, you seem quite nice.

Ț̴̔̀̃͂̓̀͆̐̔̓̇̃̽͘͝h̶̨̡̡̺̺̜͇͕͚͖̪̖̤͓̤͎̖͔̙̝̾͌̑̓͒̾̕͘̕e̸̲̥̻͎̰͉̰̤͚̯̫̙͔͎̊̔͑̾͜ͅ ̷̙͔̗͓͕͎͇́̂̈͌́̾̉͜b̷̳̙͖̿̅̚͝r̶̬̥̜̱̳͔̗͕͇͙̫̓ō̴͉̺͍͈̳̘͆̿̈́̓̑̍͌̉̋̀̚ǫ̷̡̡̛̛̛̤̪̙̝̠̞̟̣͇̏͊̓̓͆́̋̎̅̑͌̃̅̋͘ͅd̷̢̺͎̫̖̖͔̰̠͑̑̇̒̈́͂͌̆̄̔̄̓͋̈͆͋̀̚͜͜͝ ̵̛̠̗̯̲̱̖̯̪͗̉̊̊̃̃͑͋̒̾͑͝͝ͅm̴̧̧̨̫̳̦̹͖͓͉̖̳̟͍̱̳͎͙͊̈́̊̂̏̍̽̕͜͝͝ͅo̷͙̓͗̂̈͊̚̕ẗ̷̛̫͓̯̺͎̖̪͚̯̍̀̃̽̓̈̆̃̃̈́͂̈́̈́͠͠ͅȟ̵̖́͛̂͗̉̿͒̈́̓̔̇̓̓̋͠ĕ̶̢̝̻̩͈̰͖̙͓̱̆̆̀̂̓̀̈̚r̶̨͎̮̟̱̺̘̼͎̬͈̰̪̤̫͓̗̥͗̌͂̏̎̓̑̄̀̌̈́̔̑͜ ̷̙̭͎̥̎́̂̈̽̀͌̅̅s̸̗͖̿̇̾̈̽͊̚͠i̸̢͍̘̣͔̅̿͒̏̆̾̃̉̄͂̔́̂̕̚̕ņ̵̺̝̯̪̦͖͉̱̗͐̒͋̏̓͌̋̈́̊͗̓̓̓̕͘͝ģ̶̮̗̪̹͈̞̣͔̗̦̠̞̻̆̔͑͑͂͊̒̾͑̍͝ͅs̷̝͕̙̖͙̱͉͚͊̾̊̈́͛̎͂̇̚ ̴̧̛̟̗̼̲̜̘͜͜͠

Oh I've ruined it, sorry

GooberTheHat wrote:

No, you've been infected by it.

The eggs will hatch within 2 cycles.

There is war now. Stars will fall and the Brood Mother will have bodies for her eggs. Fear not for those that fall. The dreams and hopes and flesh of the fallen on the stars we conquer shall be absorbed as sustenance for our younglings, and as such they shall live forever.

To see a field of thousands of bodies start to rhythmically convulse and burst with new life is the 2nd most beautiful sight in all existence, behind only the visage of the Brood Mother herself.

We await your fleets @Lord_Boinkington - we await the bodies you deign to deliver unto us.

If you are having difficulty maintaining relations with everyone, look at the common denominator. You.

I suggest you heed this lesson - it will not delay the inevitable, but it is best to die with a sense of honesty, clarity and dignity.