Ryzom

vinnyq wrote:Oh heey, have y'all gone to the bar lately? There're npc waitresses and customers there now! That might spoil the mood

tygerqt wrote:My dark little heart skipped a beat when I read your announcment!...(I have the Type O Negative and NIN albums covered, you bring the black candles and drinks..soda for moi!)

Hey! I *am* type O negative!

And, barring disaster of some sort, sounds like fun and I hope my pathetic low-spec box can handle the crowd, 'cause I plan to be there. I have my basic outfit put together, now just need to see if I can find my vampyre gloves to round it out...

vinnyq wrote:To be clear, 20:00 BST is 3:00PM North America East Coast, right?

hans1976 wrote:All this will be lined with terror brought to you by yourself! The bar features a small stage that enables poetry so earburning, so terrifying a kipesta's cry will sound like music to you. Think Vogon poetry and you are close. And remember that the best pain is shared, so hand out where you can on this open mic night.

Vogon poetry is of course, the third worst in the universe. The second worst is that of the Asgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in my Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging and the president of the Mid-Galactic Arts Knobbling Council survived only by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos was reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his 12-book epic entitled "My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles" when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save humanity, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paul Neil Milne Johnstone of Redbridge, in the destruction of the planet Earth. Vogon poetry is mild by comparison.