WELCOME

[ARCHER]

You know what's classy? Wearing a frilly skirt and three-inch heels. Of course. Everyone who's anyone does that. And drinking tea while upside down is the coolest shit ever, man I can't even start to tell you how fucking awesome that is. To be honest, Archer isn't sure why he's here. He just sort of arrived, and is now sitting at a table set up on the ceiling of some strange, unusual structure, where the teapots serve on their own. Nothing really makes sense. He assumes that he's finally snapped and slipped into a state of complete insanity. As a barking Persian whizzes past, Archer holds out his cup for another round, thank you thank you, then watches as the sugar follows. He raises it to his lips--it's too hot, so he takes a small sip. Mother fucking tea still burns his tongue. Music is playing from somewhere. Archer doesn't know the words or the tune. He feels old and irrelevant, but that's all right, he's just going to keep drinking his tea even if it's too hot for his tastes and he can't quite taste it due to each taste bud in his mouth being burned off. But Giratina is a finicky host and somewhere she's dressing up in flower circlets and kicking Cyrus in the teeth like a good bitch. Archer doesn't wonder exactly where she is. All he knows is that he has to be polite. With a sigh, he sets down the tea and then the gravity reverses and he's on the ground and his skirt is hiked up to his waist. Moaning, Archer stands up and straightens his blouse and petticoat, knowing that the gravity could reverse again at any minute. He sighs, then looks around this strange world full of sparkles and swirls and constantly-changing gravity. He wants to leave, but if this is his mind, then he'll never find his way out. He adjusts the flowery bonnet on his head and wonders why it's him that's going batshit insane. Maybe Arceus himself longs to make Good Apollo his beleaguered bitch. Sighing, Archer sits down again. His ankles are killing him. Near him the shattered teapot is dying. He can hear it cry softly as it tries to recover. Archer doesn't bother to help it. Something about teapots is untrustworthy. He never trusts them. He never has. Blue eyes flicking around, Archer waits. He lets the teapot die. Through his fingers passes a single object, long and slender and important. Oh no, he's dropped the Lift Key once more. tags: N somehow notes: I have no idea why this exists.

[N Harmonia]

This was ridiculous, floating around like some hot air baloon. Frankly, the notion that his internal mass was less than the mass of air made N feel like a freak. At least here in the Distortion World, nobody could see him hovering through the air like this. Oh God, if someone ever saw him, he'd die of embarassment. Wait, how did he know he was in the Distortion World? It's simple, really: there are waterfalls going back-assward up the walls, shit had worse coloration than an overcooked wildberry poptart and, again, he was fucking flying through the air. He grips at the hem of his poncho, scratching at the sections of his neck the cheap imitation wool irritated. "Acursed foreign garb, if you continue to plague my skin, I will incinerate you!" Because screaming aloud to your poncho is just. So. Cool. One hour has passed. The floating wasn't even bothering him anymore. It was more annoying than bothersome, because he found out fast that it was impossible to land anywhere that didn't either disintegrate upon touch or was infested with literal talking dicks. Wherever Giratina is, she must be having a good time. After passing a caterpillar smoking a pipe (who kindly told N to "go fuck himself" after he had made an introduction), N closed his eyes and muttered a slient prayer to Arceus, hoping that the God of all living creatures would bless this one, weary traveller. Four hours pass. This was complete bullshit now. After maneuvering through a field of flying Cacnea, N had gotten fucking fed up with this place. Resigned to counting the number of Druddigon dicks on the ceiling (or what appeared to be the ceiling), the faint sound of house music and a crying teakettle pulled him from his stupor, bringing his attention to a woman in a classy dress on a platform below. He removes his trusty sombrero, using it as a flag to grab her attention. "Excuse me, miss! You, down there! If it's not too much trouble, could you lend me a hand in getting down from here? Sorry, thank you!" Replacing his (trusty) sombrero, he attempts to float down once again. All that escapes him is a fart. "Oop. Excuse me." Classy as shit. . tags: Archer somehow notes: It exists because we are kings.

[ARCHER]

Look up at N, now look back at the teapot, then look back at N. You're being called a woman. Look at the teapot, then back at N, then down at you. You now have tits. Yes, because this thread couldn't get any more nonsensical, Archer now sports a pair of plump, squeezable breasts and child-birthing hips. Sighing, Archer stands, then picks up his chair and offers it to the floating boy way above his--her head. Yes, her. Hm. "Grab hold," the humanoid of whatever gender says. It may well be a dickgirl, because Archer has not thought to check. It's rude to pull up one's skirts and down one's panties in public, after all. "I'll see if I can pull you down." The teapot finally stops sobbing and accepts fate. No one mourns its silent passing: the first death in all of Feels Like Forever passes through without a hint of remorse from the loyal players. It is, after all, only a teapot. tags: N somehow notes: BUT WAIT IT GETS MORE CONFUSING

[N Harmonia]

Thank Arceus she understood English! Or...Unovan. Or whatever they call the fucking language in the Pokemon world, I dunno, Wapanese. N grabs hold of one of the chair legs, pulling himself towards Archerlady and solid ground. Once his feet touch down, he falls to his knees, kissing the misshapen and colorful rock below him. "Thank God I found someone out here who wasn't either an insane Audino or an insane, rapist cactus." He lifts his head up, staring at 63!Archer. "I guess introductions need to be given, correct?" He lifts the iron helmet off of his head, shifting a bit and causing the suit of armor to rattle a bit. It was oversized, and he was too tall to fit in it. It must have belonged to a midget before this. "My name is N Harmonia, and I am the king of Plasma. I enjoy long walks on the beach, the musical stylings of Elton John and a cup of brandy on a cold winter's night." He runs a hand through his majestic green hair, flipping it to the side. "I'm also an Internet singing sensation. My online alias is Jessie Slaughter." Bitchin'. "So, who the fuck are you, hot mamma?" Double bitchin'. . tags: Archer somehow notes: asdfghjklqwertyuiop.

[ARCHER]

"...I wouldn't make out with the floor if I were you," the ladyman said, breasts bouncing. Suddenly this shit became Corruption of Champions, and if Archer drank that tea, it'd make him grow cat ears or something. Also, dog dicks. Lots and lots of puppy peckers. "That floor has a scat fetish. I wouldn't want to know what it eats." But N did it anyway and then introduced himself. And his outfit changed. Didn't you have to go back to camp to do that? Archer picked up the milk on the table and drank it. Suddenly, his hair turned a sandy blonde. Wait, what. Bitchtits, he was stuck in a real-life Corruption of Champions! Sighing, he decided not to eat or drink anything else. "Apollo," he said. Best not to introduce himself by code-name because he was completely paranoid. This kid introduced himself as Plasma? Well there was no way Archer, who suspected that there were snipers outside his window, all the fucking time, was going to introduce himself as second-in-command of Rocket. "And I think you're a little too young for me, kiddo." Aw, buzzkill. tags: N somehow notes: ...god damn it now I'm going to go play CoC.