Campaign Quotes, No Context Edition VI: Good. Bad. I'm the one with the pun.

Prior Threads~
Here (I), Here (II), Here (III), Here (IV), and Here (V).

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GM: “In essence, I wanted my secret manipulative Moon-Nazis DLC, and I never got it.”

Moonshadow: *nodded and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of her bags. She then tossed it over the wall*
Doc: “Not the hooch!”

GM: “Viridia grabbed a bunch of lightning balls like a professional lightning ball grabber. Mom would probably be proud, if Mom didn't know she was with a bunch of silly ponies about to break into about the most stupidly hyped-up dangerous place that could possibly exist in a populated area, besides, like, a nuke or something.”
Viridia: *returned to Stellar with her homing lightningmass and static in her hair* “I'm not gonna say that I'm the coolest ever, but I'm definitely top five.”

Bertly: “If needed, I would be honored to destroy turrets using bastardized schematics certainly copied from Robronco.”

Stellar: “Come on, let's take a tour around the perimeter and see what we can spot. I bet the others will be getting themselves into trouble and need rescuing shortly.”
Viridia: “Sounds stellar!”
GM: “The two pegasi would then probably notice a arc of lightning attacking the front of the building, which was followed up by a familiar-sounding robotic voice yelling 'Chaaarrgge!', although that could have been the wind.”
Stellar: “Wasn't the whole point of us spotting up that that group would go in stealthily?”
Viridia: “I think they misheard 'stealth' as 'go in gunz blazing'. I guess we just wait until we hear somebody scream?”

I like the thread title.

Tracking post, and a promise to try and keep things interesting with Moonshadow. :smallwink:

From one player's Chronciles of Darkness (changeling) character creation:

Player: "Wait. So, you're saying that contract lets me speed objects up in time, freeze them, or rewind them?"
Storyteller: "Yeah. Why?"
Player: "Well, that means the object gets put back to the time it was created, frozen in time for 1 hour, or takes 1 bashing damage every 3 seconds for an hour, with no roll to resist?"
Storyteller: "Yeah..."
Player: "So, if I'm a Fairest, I get to use that contract on people..."
Storyteller: "... f***."

Sir Jonathan Pains: "I said subdue, not kick one in the face so he falls unconscius or kick the other in the knee so it bends backwards. Now he just screams in pain and we cant question him.

Jun "John" Wei: "I'm very sorry sir, I didnt realize that englishmen were so fragile"

Sir Jonathan Pains: "Those...those arent English, they are Welsh."

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Sir Jonathan Pains: " John, you did it again. We were going to question him and you go on kicking him so he flies 2 meters, crashes through a door and gets knocked out."

Jun "John" Wei: I'm very sorry sir, he was probably Welsh."

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Belac93

From one player's Chronciles of Darkness (changeling) character creation:

Player: "Wait. So, you're saying that contract lets me speed objects up in time, freeze them, or rewind them?"
Storyteller: "Yeah. Why?"
Player: "Well, that means the object gets put back to the time it was created, frozen in time for 1 hour, or takes 1 bashing damage every 3 seconds for an hour, with no roll to resist?"
Storyteller: "Yeah..."
Player: "So, if I'm a Fairest, I get to use that contract on people..."
Storyteller: "... f***."

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Wait til he reads "Leaping Toward Nightfall." XD

[CoD: Changeling] Different group, same game.
Storyteller: "The penalty to track you is what?"
Me: "Let me finish rolling this Contract to find out. *Rolls* Exceptional Success. I can't be tracked and they actually get the Lost Condition for trying."
Storyteller: "So...the pack of Werewolves...gets lost in their own territory...in the middle of the city."
Me: "Yep."
Storyteller: "And when they ask the spirits, all they'll get is You were chasing the Fox Who Cannot Be Caught...Cause you aren't a Spirit so they only know your legend."
Me: "Did I just creep out a pack of werewolves?"
Storyteller: "I'll tell you when I'm done deciding how far in a random direction they go while lost."

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Forum Explorer

Tracking post, and a promise to try and keep things interesting with Moonshadow. :smallwink:

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Hee. You know Doc misses her. :3


GM: “There's good magic, bad magic, friendship magic, and probably sexy magic too; that's just science.”

GM: “The third folder was... actually a disguise for a collection of pinups; Minotaur beefcake shots, to be exact. Well, there was one pony in there, but, uh, best not to think too hard about that guy too much.”

Doc: “If locked, Doc will use his lockpicks to open one of the locker units. And by lockpicks he means a .44 round from his Buffalo Revolver.”

Doc: “Poor Moonshadow. I think I should add booze to her Hearthwarming gift idea.”
Choro: “Hehehe... you're thinking she'd rather her name was Moonshine right about now?”

Doc: “The guild gave Stellar this job for us. I think whoever is here knows they know. Hopefully we're not the bait.”
Choro: “We're PCs. We're totally the bait.”

Bruahm OOC: Does tolkienverse have AA?
DM: No, Vice is a thing of Morgoth.
Bruahm OOC: We're going to have to start one.
Fror OOC: This is wholesome drinking, with friends!
Talia OOC: Until we pass out!

From a bit ago, but still fresh in the mind:
"It's like a cookie but you left it in the oven too long and the chocolate chips are the space between space and it's a tree and on fire."

Erica OOC: "I want to take a dramatic"
ST OOC: "...I want to state for the record that Erica asked for this. I'm merely giving the most likely result." *tells Erica what happens*
Erica OOC: :smallbiggrin:
Everyone else: :smalleek:

ST OOC: "Erica, like the Prussian artillery at Waterloo, fires at her own ally. Michael, take 11 Bashing."

Muckraker (NPC): "I would not be surprised if the Ordo Dracul would try if they could. But, nobody knows what would happen. I doubt it would be anything good. At best, it might be like diablerie."
Erica OOC: See, it works, gonna munch on some owls. The smart guy just confirmed that the best case is phat XP, a dot in a disciple I don't have and no negative repercussions since it's, well, a Strix
ST OOC: 'No negative repercussions'. This isn't the World Of Things Turn Out Well For You.

GM: "Do you have anything that can be origamically folded?"

P1: "This is how we die: stopped by a wooden door!"

P1: "Sing 'Red Diamond'!"
NPC Bard: "Red Diamond, Red Diamond, a--"
P1: "Stop singing 'Red Diamond'!"
NPC Bard: "Please make up your mind, Red Diamond, Red Diamond..."

P1: "I'm lawful neutral, not lawful good!"
P4: "I'm lawful NOTHING!"

From character creation:
"So I'm a merfolk, but my tail is a natural weapon and my speed is 20'. Also I can walk on walls sometimes."
"Are you...are you some kind of inverted scorpion-maid that walks on her Spider-Man hands, hitting people with her tail?"
"Yep! Nice to meet you!"

DM: It's like a sausage stuffed with strawberry pudding was put in an acid-filled blender.

Player: Basically, my character's church is communism with prayer.

GM: "You hear a knock at the door."
Trixie: "I walk over and open it with my ponykinesis."
GM: "You see Trixie standing there."
Trixie: "I swear to Luna, if this is time traveling shenanigans..."

GM: "Your duplicate melts down into a jellybean blob with a face."
Trixie: "Damn it, Moffit, Trixie is not in one of your stupid Doctor Who fanfics!"

Agent Paul: "When did we employ talking horses?"
Trixie: "Trixie is not a horse! She is a unicorn."
Agent Paul: "Alright, I stand corrected. When did we employ delusional talking horses?"

Nick Fury: "Your target is this man, Smackly. He looks unassuming but has some kind of super strong right hand."
Agent Meadow: "Why is it freakishly large and flat?"
Nick Fury: "Had an accident involving a disgruntled coworker and a waffle press. It's how he got his powers."
Agent Meadow: "How does that even work?"
Nick Fury: "**** if I know. I'd be making DC movies if I did."

Trixie: (Crit failing an acting skill check) "Whinny! Whinny! Horse! Horse! Neigh!"

Agent Paul: "Alright, so the vehicle that Smackly took is registered to the US Army. It's listed as stolen for the past two days."
Agent Meadow: "You have access to the army's database?"
Agent Paul: "Uh... did you mean legally, or just in general?"

Prison Warden: "I'm glad to have your help with the investigation, but uh, why a horse?"
Trixie: (angry unicorn noises)
Agent Paul: "She's CSI--Crime Scene Equine... Investigation... Horse. She's good at picking up tracks."
Naboo: "And eating all the peanut butter cracker snacks I brought."
Prison Warden: "Seems legit."

Agent Paul: "Alright so here we are--the French Quarter. Try to blend in."
Team: (stares at Trixie)
Trixie: "What?"
Agent Paul: "Actually... no, you're fine as is. Let's go do some damage."

Trixie: "Smackly, you're under arrest by the Great and Powerful Trrrrixie!"
Bystander: "Dude, is that a talking horse?"
Trixie: "That's it, I'm dropping a fireball!"

Agent Meadow: "Trixie's down. Uh, do we get a doctor or a vet to heal her?"

"The best part about trying to get ransoms from loan sharks is that when you pull out the knives and pliers, it's merely ironic, and not horrific!"

"Wait, crap, I did that in the wrong order. Fingers, then tongues. I don't presume putting this back in would do anything?"

DM: So there is one slice of pizza left and five of us. Who wants to cut it?
Engineer: Or I could just call dibs.
DM: Dibs on cutting it? Sure thing!
Engineer: No- wait, I mean-
DM: You called dibs so you get to do it.
*everyone else agrees*
Engineer: *Sigh* I walked right into that.
Hacker: Dude, you ran full tilt into it.
Engineer: *sigh* Fine.
Hacker: Wait, let me get my phone.
Engineer: Goddammit.

Engineer: Can I just spit on it and be done with it?

Engineer: Let's see... Garbage, junk, garbage, junk- ooh! Trash!

Engineer: *after opening the airlock to the bioship* *tilt's head* These things actually make some sort of sense? Ow?

DM: As you step onto the bioship, make a dodge roll.
*engineer and guard fail*
DM: *sigh* You both faceplant into the floor due to the different angles of gravity between the two ships.

DM: After failing for a while trying to get directions from the ship's intelligence, you finally notice the hacker's shadow pointing the way down the hallway.
Engineer: It's bad when the unconscious hacker's shadow is the most competent member of the party.

Engineer: *after falling off a ladder into a rather deep pool of ship blood* I'm not sure how much of this blood is mine!
Hacker: Well I've been knocked out for a while now, it looks like it's your turn to get all the critical fails.

Engineer: Hey, if I lose 5 more HP, the only thing keeping me conscious would be my power armour.
DM: *laugh* Right. It's a good thing you know how to fix that.
Engineer: I keep my armour functioning, my armour keeps me functioning.

Engineer: *squelching down the hallway with his armour filled with ship blood* Despite all off this, I'm still not going vegetarian.

*after struggling to figure out how to open a locked door*
Hacker: *realizes what is needed, but can't say anything because KOed*
*after making a couple of check that would allow the DM to drop a couple of hints*
DM: You remember something you picked up recently having the TTI symbol.
Investigator: *looks at the hacker's inventory* I got it!
*everyone else looks at the investigator expectantly*
Investigator: The Captain's Gun!
Hacker: *facepalm*
DM: *breaks down laughing*
Engineer: That was the captain of the other ship's gun. Let me see that. *looks and sighs* Written right above the captain's gun is TTI Drive!

DM: 'The Captain's Gun' is now third on my list of inherently funny things for me, right after toasters and Spot.
Engineer: Well, this makes up for me and the pizza.

PC: We need a better communications system for steering this airship. Or hell, a steering wheel we can use from the deck.

Gnomish engineer: Doyouwantustoaddthattotheship? That'sareallygoodidea. IknowexactlyhowtobuilditbutIneedacopperstillandaha msterwheel—nowaitIneedaboilerandabellowsandthere's someinterestingthingsyoucoulddowithclockworkandImightbeabletoauto mateitentirely—

PC: NO!! Don't do that!!! We'll just do it the simple way. Relay system. Much less likely to explode.

Gnomish engineer: Howcanyouevermakeanytechnologicaladvancementifnoth ingexplodes?

PC: Oh gods, we're all going to die.

Gnomish engineer: Maybe!Butit'sokaybecauseit'sforSCIENCE! :D

PC: I am so very, very thankful I know how to cast Feather Fall.

GM: “First off, there were the signs along the wall, which all had the same made-for-kindergartner aesthetic; or, rather, cows. Where there normally would be pictures of ponies, there were cows; one was a just a diagram with a stylized cow. Another diagram seemed to be a crude map, depicting happy cows, apparently leading into the back entrance, which appeared as a large pool with cows improbably jumping in.”

GM: “If you're named Crème Brule but you have a garbage can on your rear end, ponies will talk.”

Choro: “Any advice on what to do if there is some sort of powerful spirit haunting this place?”
Strata: “Well, besides running out and trying to burn the place—”
Doc: “Do note that we have a flamethrower.”

Moon: “Well I'll have to shed my equipment, and I'll maneuver like a drunken goose, but I can get you up there.”

Stellar: “Hey Viridia, are you seeing any waste disposal? They might just be dumping stuff in the lake.”
Viridia: “Well, I guess the end of the world is the best time to start polluting. In for a bit, in for a crown.”

Doc: (*expertly grabs a note using stealth*) “Notice me Moon-senpai! …Oh wait, I'm sneaking really well. She can't.”
Strata: “Psst. Do you want to tell him that one of us could've just picked up the note with magic?”
Choro: “Aww... no, we can't do that. He's having so much fun!”

Me: So this is why I got banned from playing Tinker Gnomes. I need to call my old DM and apologize.

Fighter: *Ahem*

Me: After I rez the Fighter.

Stonewall: I love my hug coat *mimes wearing a straight-jacket*

Midas: Before we begin I am going to inform you that I am a Wizard with a love of research and I wish to find out if a Clone can be used as a substitute for a voodoo doll.
Clone of Agent Ward: *Expression of Wide Eyed Horror*

Midas: That's another reason I sleep in a private demi-plane.

"Good game, I almost beat you there."
"You were at zero life, I was at fifty-one."
"Still not half bad on my part."
"It is when both players start with twenty."

DM: The urd is ranting and raving now, spewing insults and obscenities that suggest horriffically vile acts of a carnal nature by your father, and implying that your mother is--well, your Draconic is a bit rusty and he's using a peculiar dialect, so he's either called her a rot-grub-infested compost heap or an otyugh, you're not sure which. In either event the brain-bleach-worthy level of detail he describes in his frothing fury is best left untranslated. The kobold scout on the ground looks embarrassed and says "Sorry for him, he kind of a#%hole. He take everything personal" in broken Common before stabbing you again.

*******

PC: Your dice are evil! Switch dice, man!
DM: It won't matter, but if it makes you feel better, I'll switch out and re-roll. *grabs another d20*
PC: Thank you.
DM: *crit*
PC: ...asdfghjklasdfghjkksonofab---

Doc: “I love how if you were a goat and somehow managed to survive the turret onslaught to reach the facility, your reward is a dubious meat cake of unknown content. We're dealing with someone who really takes pleasure in their work.”

GM: “Viridia, there's you're opening; why does Fan Knife's breath smell like fish after fifteen minutes being alone with Moonshadow?”

Text on a baby pegasus onsie: “Chicken Nugget in Training.”
Doc: “Shame, Doc could come up with an idea for those clothes. Though the text on them is pretty creepy. It's like this company hired Jeffrey Dahmer to do their marketing.”

GM: “Moonshadow can smell what's outside her environmentally sealed radiation suit due to a simple factor; magic. The suit doesn't hamper any of the senses entirely; outside smells are heavy dampened, but are detectable, mostly due to a combination of ease of use and the shear insidious power of the Equestrian scented candles lobby.”

Stellar: “We haven't really accomplished much with our perimeter sweep.”
Doc: “Instead of sweeping, come inside and... mop up.”

Spoiler

Show

Large Marge, annis hag brawler
Kellwin, spiky death midget halfling slayer
Faeurn, elf oracle of lore

"Halflings aren't actually humanoids, they're a kind of specialized parrot."

"Did we ever get around to rebooting the kobold king?"

Marge ooc: "We should find a gnome to sell [the airplane] to and kick start the industrial revolution!"
DM: "You're rich enough, you don't need a kickstarter."

"Please DM responsibly"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by kopout

[spoiler]
"Did we ever get around to rebooting the kobold king?"

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I wouldn't bother; he'll just tell you he's downloaded new updates and needs ANOTHER reboot.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by bulbaquil

I wouldn't bother; he'll just tell you he's downloaded new updates and needs ANOTHER reboot.

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Reboot him enough times and he'll become a DC comics character. (Heyooooo *ba dum tssh*)

Paladin:"My deity preaches sincerity, so I will sincerely tell you your healing spell kinda sucks."
NPC Cleric:"Sorry, I did my best."
Paladin:"Perhaps you should go back to Cleric school."
NPC Cleric:"Uh...There is no such thing as a Cleric school."
Paladin (aside):"No wonder they suck."


(A ruffian and the Bard are arguing while the Cavalier is on the other side of a spider web)
Ruffian:"I demand you get us out of here this instant!"
Bard:"Have some patience sir, my companion is doing his best!"
Ruffian (threatening the Bard with a knife):"Swear to the gods IF THAT WEB ISN'T TORN DOWN IN FIVE SECONDS-."
(The Cavalier charges in on his camel through the web. His lance is now haft-deep into the Ruffian's chest)
Cavalier"Done."

Stellar: “Need something for Stellar and Viridia to do, or to justify the change in plan.”
Choro: “Well, corpses. Corpses are still an option. You could check the corpses.”

GM: “Seriously, there hasn't even been any Speech attempts or anything.”
Doc: “Do we really want to leave it to Doc? He'll do it, but that's probably as dangerous as the combat option.”
Doc: *rolls Speech against the robot - fails the check badly*
Stellar: “I could use a specific steer from the GM at this point.”
GM: “Follow the happy animated paper airplane back through the front entrance to the group gathered at the front entrance, do damage control so they all don't die.”
Doc: “Hey, I totally called that [Speech] check.”

Viridia: “I still exist.”
GM: “For something crazy. Talk to that voice in Viridia's head. Have an affair. Post ponies.”

GM: “But what are earth ponies but midget horses with ass tattoos?”
Moon: “Not jerks?”
Viridia: “Nerdy virgins who're always wrong and also small bad? Or is that just Doc?”
Choro: “I thought that was unicorns.”
Doc: “Doc actually isn't a virgin. It was established he dated a caravan mare before.”
Viridia: “Caravans don't have genders, and they're inanimate objects. You can't date one!”
Doc: “Why? The mare in question was dating a Wagon at the time.”

from the pf campaign:

Spoiler: the team: cayden caylean's finest brew... uh, crew

Show

josé the half-"elf" inquisitor, me,
grim, the half-ork paladin,
eva, the human cleric
korinn, the human oracle
the unnamed drunk human monk

eva: if we're good, why did we steal the horses?
josé: don't worry about it. it's calling requisitionning. besides, i take full responsibility. now that we've saved that orphanage, we'll just give back the horses and pay back the merchant.
grim: well, he did "borrow" those horses for the greater good.
korinn: and we've got cash to pay back...
dm: this is the problem with alignments and inexperienced players...
me: wait until i have to torture somebody. good thing i can bluff and intimidate my way out of everything!
party: *stares in horror*
dm: remember, he's the one who insisted on saving the orphanage.
me: hey, the orphanage didn't attack me, what was i gonna do? leave them there? besides, i may be the necessary evil of the team, it doesn't mean i have to be evil.

horse vendor: you stole my horses! you'll pay me back in slave labor!
josé: sure, here, this oughta be enough. *hands over azlantean coins*
horse vendor: *estimation and bluff* yeeeeaaaaah, i guess, but you're still gonna hand over the [korinn] little girl. i can get a good price for her on the black market.
me to team: no more mister nice guy. *rolls intimidation too well at 31+* oh, this i gotta rp, also, here's what i look like when i'm evil.
josé: alright, you sorry excuse for a halfling stomach. you're talking about my friends *pulls off shades, reveals mismatched gold and purple eyes), normally i'm easy going. in your case, you're obnoxious, so if you so much as lay a greasy finger in the general vicinity of korinn over here, i'll personnally kick your sorry butt up and down riddle-port from the castle to the docks. through buildings if necessary. and i'll make it necessary. you've got the mafia? how fun! i was a part of it you weren't even an idea in your father's dangly bits! despite the fact your mother should have swallowed you, i'm feeling generous since my team is looking at me and i don't work in front of an audience. i got your horses back, you've been generously paid, so either i can say you are no longer useful to me and i'll be first in line to hoist your corpse as the new flag for my ship, or we can make a mutually advantageous deal. i propose since you scratched my back, i can scratch yours at a later date. like letting you waste oxygen that could be used in moving the feather in my beret!
horse vendor, pale from a natural 1: .... ok! ok!
josé: good. now, we're leaving, and you've got underwear to change. oh, and give your sandwich to my half-ork colleague. he's hungry and you're my best friend now.
dm: ... duuuuuude. his sandwich?!
eva: he's got a ship?
monk: he's got a feather in his beret?
paladin: he's part of the mafia?!
korinn: anyone noticed he's got drow eyes?
dm, monk, and me: we don't talk about his mother.