Dreaming about Achaea



  • I'd sooner submit to the gentle embrace of Mhaldor.
  • Datrius said:
    I'd sooner submit to the gentle embrace of Mhaldor.
    you say that like it's a bad thing :sunglasses: 

  • Where's the WTF button when you need it?
  • Didn't bother reading that because it is huge.  Went ahead and gave it a lol anyway,  cause dude is hilarious
  • TharvisTharvis The Land of Beer and Chocolate!
    I read it. Worth.
    Aurora says, "Tharvis, why are you always breaking things?!"
    Artemis says, "You are so high maintenance, Tharvis, gosh."
    Tecton says, "It's still your fault, Tharvis."

  • I got to this before stopping:

    " Xenomorph, winner of the Golden Ticket, Arm Wrestling Champion and inventor of the chainmail cocksleeve fullplate weld-on kit."

    That alone had me rolling at work,  not going to risk the rest of it. 
  • NimNim
    edited September 2014
    Oh, another Achaean dream I had that was pretty cool was one of those dreams where you're back at school or college or whatever.

    Except for some reason I wasn't back at my college, I was back at some super semi-futuristic mega-complex college. Like I think it was basically a country or something, but also a college.

    Also for some reason it was future Mhaldor after it won and enslaved the world, or at least a continent or something. Mhaldor wins and becomes a cyberpunk-esque college in my dreams is what you should be getting out of this.

    Also I was going to take it over.

    I forget if I succeeded.
  • Mishgul said:
    I dreamt last night that Mhaldor had 3 unread news. I then woke up and was disappointed that not only did we not have news, but i would have a dream about news 
    did you read them? what did they say?
  • MishgulMishgul Trondheim, Norway
    I did not read them. I will never know :(


    One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important

    As drawn by Shayde
    hic locus est ubi mors gaudet succurrere vitae
  • Yae said:

    In another dream, I had the impression that Zeon had left Eleusis to be a rogue. I don't know what inspired that, but I honoursed him in game and was somewhat relieved he was still Eleusian.
    I'm still here :wink: 

                   Party right, party hard,

                                            Sing and dance, perfect bard.

                                                                     Prefarar loop, accentato whore,

                                                                                             Buy a new rapier, get nerfed some more.

  • I just had a dream that Clementius showed up and started chatting in TMC (an OOC clan), and revealing some interesting trivia about mechanical things nobody knew about.

    And only now, more than half an hour after waking up, did I realise it was a dream.
  • Xenomorph said:
    Dreams and Achaea go together like plastic bags and toddlers, not to spoil the ending, but nobody picked up a damn thing and nobody is breathing. 

    Even Xenomorph, winner of the Golden Ticket, Arm Wrestling Champion and inventor of the chainmail cocksleeve fullplate weld-on kit, is like most Achaeans, and has had Achaean dreams in the past. 

    These chance encounters in RL are often nightmares that some Achaeans have compared to being water-boarded by Freddy Kreuger while being methodically bludgeoned about the head and neck with a Matrix digital rain can of alphabet soup placed into a sock. 

    In a recent Gallup Poll, most Achaean veterans concurred unanimously that these unusual night visits from the divine lands manifest themselves due to textbook symptoms brought upon by marathon gaming, and to obscene levels. While the Achaean Everyman varies in terms of usefulness and contributions to the collective, they each share a genetic flaw down to the last man. 

    Achaean Dreams RL, or most commonly abbreviated by the community as, "Please, oh f**k no it's happening again" are a sleep deprived and malnourished medical condition characterized by its common symptoms. 

    Severe dehydration, in tandem with the words 'sedentary lifestyle' being an understatement that makes erosion itself look like the Indy 500. Combine these with other mostly eradicated diseases of centuries past like some sort of f****d up obese diabetic Voltron.

    As the RL Achaean diet is well-rounded and nutritious as the Turd People on Cannibal Turd Island might share similarities with, most Achaeans simply have little time for food preparation, personal hygiene, or the never ending list of stupid shit that will get you killed for going AFK that is never worth the cost. Thus, all Achaeans, are some combination of daredevils with a diabetic death wish, like Wilford Brimley drag racing a monster truck absolutely shitfaced on Red Bull while snorting blow off a hooker's ass at triple digit speeds. Now now, I know you are probably asking yourself, "Wait, don't daredevils get laid?" Look. The similarities stop there. Wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first.

    Don't interrupt my story again. Save your questions for when I've clearly left the forums.

    To sum up the medical complications, as a community, we are dehydrated because Achaea's closest effort towards electrolyte replenishment and fluid intake is garnered by whatever H2O content is derived from a 100% Doritos diet, which is well known for being our main beverage. 

    How most of us physically drink Doritos as a beverage are beyond my scope of expertise, but the cold hard proof is undeniable, and there are Doritos bags hemorrhaging from every possible shelf in every Achaean RL home. If trying to repel the opposite sex was an Olympic sport, these dehydrated Doritos drinking debutants would have no peer, the opposite sex scrambling into a bedlam of stampeding panic with unprecedented frenzy, similar to the Compton, CA Track and Field 100m dash gunshot turning into a ruthless gunfight for survival wondering which gang started the first gunshot, or perhaps the stupid ref.

    It gets more difficult to pinpoint Achaean dreams. Most people don't buy into any of the TS's viewpoints, hell, most people RL don't know about us. They should. If you ever logged out that is, most of the RL world think the Achaean is a myth, an old wives tale. Not surprising, considering most Achaeans are an elusive nocturnal type. 

    Even mighty science has failed to prove or disprove their existence, churning up scant evidence aside from the two recurring clues they exist: deep, fat footprints leading to the convenience store, and perhaps the only other evidence skeptics entertain, the telltale Achaean sign -a fresh batch of hepatitis on the toilet seat. Interesting as it is appetizing, these clues further complicate this perplexing puzzle of perversion by shrouding the Achaean in obese diabetic mystery.

    These medical facts lead us to my own Achaean dreams, real, and uncensored, -Achaean Dreams. Before I begin I'd like to thank my sponsor, Ben-Gay. If you get the shit kicked out of you and you find yourself praying for salvation as a gank team stands over your remains, just pray for salvation, rub some Ben-Gay on your aching limbs and joints, and shut the f**k up.

    I warn you that this RL dream is the honest truth, I really did have this dream and it's not part of a creative writing abortion some of you actually read. This RL dream was brought on by simply playing far longer than any self respecting gigolo with full plate ought to.

    The dreams I had were mocking and hard to think back on with complete visual memory. There was no screen, nor were there letters, just a visual representation and an odd interface that was pseudo-real but I'll be clear -you know you have an Achaean dream because you just f'n do. Ami right? Rhetorical question. Sit down in the front row, shut the f**k up and don't interrupt again or you'll know the meaning of pain when your sore feet team up and kick the shit out of you in your sleep for interrupting my story and having to walk all day -CAUSE YOUR STEED GOT KILLED. Now sit down, I'm almost done you Ritalin-addled fast-food locusts! Trey, you too, down. -All the way. Ok, now that everyone has taken their seats and pretty much f***ed up not only their parents lives but my story, let's wrap this shit up, and no autographs for you unruly bastards.

    My Dream: Xenomorph, stood on the edge of a swimming pool wielding a large, highly cliche wooden mallet in both hands. Looking down upon the swimming pool, the water was covered with a thick plastic tarp that had 4 columns and 16 rows of 1.5ft wide holes neatly arranged, but with fatal intent. 

    From these holes, different Achaeans, be they Mhaldorian, Eleusian, Hashanite, and the rest of the muppet show extras, proceed to slowly pop their heads up in a fairly simplistic harmony, yet their randomness in popping up must not downplay the  sheer vital importance that I deign to fail in responding to -with violence of action. 

    Wielding that huge mallet, and scowling down at one unwelcome Achaean face after the next, yelling at several, quickly asking Khalaz who oddly popped up and down in two opposite sides of the pool "can I borrow.."

    Ugh, waiting for him to pop back up. Khalaz pops back up.

    "2000 gold please bro?"

    2 minutes go by until he randomly got a chance to gopher peek once more and replies, "I'm broke." and disappears beneath the ice blue waters of this backyard pool in a California suburb nightmare.


    No gold for a health vial, Guildmates that are too stingy to loan gold but who blames them when even I admit it's a huge problem I never pay people back.

    At this point, I'm getting really mad. And ya'll keep bobbing up and down like aquatic gophers, or better yet, polyps that keep prolapsing out of my pool like randomly like a power lifter's pink sock. For real, all of Sapience just in my pool, like some life sized flipper having turds that can't decide if they are ready to be born, before going back down the hole predictably as the last. 

    If you haven't figured it out yet, the mallet and every one of you pool pissing Chlorine diluters finally coalesce
    into a turbulent orgy of titanic colliding forces that make the Big Bang look like a fizzled out firecracker yours truly will beat today's lunch money out of.

     That's right, every one of you that popped up out of the water received a generous bonk on the head from my mallet, and sending you back to your infernal abyss whence you came!

    But what trickery is this? Only to be alarmed with a frightened gasp, the water churns as you bobbing gopher water gymnastic freaks are moving fast and the water is bubbling in a frenzy. Ever faster you deranged aquatic muppets continue to pop your heads above water when Xenomorph has utterly no logical explanation on what the point of this life is, then bobbing back down. 

    Praying to God at this point, you know, pretty much the guy who keeps Xenomorph rolling in dough, my employer, The God of Evil, The Malevolent, (the summertime BBQ booze hound and ladies man) I pray to thin air, and wonder why Lord Sartan commands my efforts and life purpose to play as orchestrator for a really shitty underwater version of the 'Mermadon Philharmonic' meets the 'Mallet of the Man with Mullet.' Like a god that is urgently needed, there is no reply. 

    But that's how messaging God typically goes. (Side note: Here's the kicker on that statement--If I forgot, and whenever my pants are down and it's a shitty time to contact me..history shows time and time again that He appears right in front me, asking what I want at the most inopportune time and that it had better be good. I won't lie, times like these, even the best of us like yours truly, well, we let a little pee slip out, I won't lie. Just a squirt mind you. Thinking fast, I offer Him nachos, which He accepts then promptly backhands me to the floor, flying away reminding me to slip it under the door next time and to stop messaging Him, that the Garden is starting to joking refer to me as 'Little Yellow Bus that Crashed Into the Aconite Factory.'

    The pool part is real. The Sartan part is just an example of always being ready, or you'll get your crap pushed in. But hey, you guys know how that is :)

    The official dream I'll always simply remember fondly as 'The Man in fullplate who pounds turds in his pool'

    It's at this point, I awaken. Reality sets in. A wry grin spreads across my face. My dream has confirmed the obvious. Achaea, you came at me with absolutely no offensive gameplan, and looked like shit doing it.

    In the words of the great "Carl" from Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and for future reference,

    "Stay outta my frickin' pool."


    + Xenomorph
    I like my steak like I like my Magic cards: mythic rare.
  • edited September 2014

    Ulrike said:
    Xenomorph, please never change. Also, please sell me some of whatever you're on.
    He comes back once per year to defend his gold medal in the Forum Olympics.

    Just as I must do to defend my medal in the Forum Special Olympics.
    I like my steak like I like my Magic cards: mythic rare.
  • I can't believe I almost forgot about this. Posting on my break at work before I forget.

    Tillie barely knows anyone outside of her House - but I guess knowing some of you through the forums has made you seep into the Achaea dreamscape of my weird brain.

    Had a dream that @Flair appeared as she was wandering some road and challenged her to a mandolin duel wherein if she lost, he took her soul. It was completely Charlie Daniels' Band. And hilarious. And creepy.
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