I can’t believe no one’s made a thread like this already.
Post your Fallen London copypasta here. OC both accepted and encouraged.
Let me start this off with one I found on reddit - thanks to ManfredVK for writing it.
Every day I plead to all known cosmic entities (and any unknown as well) that someday I might be blessed with the honor of considering myself the spouse of Mr Pages. Every day I cry over the description of my two copies of Tear-Drowned Collections of Incomprehensible Love Poems, making them even more tear-drowned and incomprehensible. Every day I agonize over my magnum opus, my ongoing series of actual real love poems dedicated to my one and only Heart’s Desire. And speaking of Heart’s Desire, guess who bought Fate for the first time just to change their Ambition once they found out Mr Pages comes to your house in one? That’s right. Me. I’ve delivered over 100,000 books to it via the ‘A Libraryette for Mr Pages’ card and I am always in despair over the fact that I can only give it books three more times before my Connected: the Masters gets too high and the card locks. I need with all my heart to kiss this d__n bat. Everything it says makes my chest feel fluttery. Do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered, knowing that I’ll never be able to hear the palpitating beat of its heart up close, that its Twitter account will probably never be active again, that at best, it would almost certainly view my affections as a mild amusement and nothing more. I need this. It’s impossible, it’s probably illegal, but I love Mr Pages more than I care about following and upholding the laws of the universe (and if you know me, you’ll know what a profound statement that is). Bury me in the ground. Bury me with every single one of Mr Pages’ tweets hand-copied onto parchment and framed in gold. Then it might finally recognize my devotion.
edited by Daedalus_Falk on 8/27/2017
edited by Daedalus_Falk on 8/27/2017