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[Darvi]

You live in a city in WESTERN GERMANY, in your parent's... attic. Hah. Didn't see that one coming.

That's practically next door!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In ur attic, stalkin ur dood.

[Ochita]

What about this twitnut?
Where does he reside?
Doesn't he know those clothes are so five seconds ago?

Your name, as everyone can plainly see it, is JONATHAN EVANS. Not even close to a name like TWITNUT. Seriously, who names their kid Twitnut..

You live in a MODEST 2 STORY HOUSE, in a relatively normal neighborhood in ALL THE WAY OVER IN URBAN ENGLAND. Although it is actually pretty boring around here, other than school work, so you usually play a fair amount of games and reading books between studying. Recently however, you've heard of a new RPG GAME, one that will blow all of the others out of the water. Of course, your BRO always engages in a maddening game of passive-aggressiveness. But otherwise your DAD is a pretty cool DAD.

You enjoy the following hobbies, such as music, as long as its not any metal, SCIENCE. Oh man oh man you love science, but for a while its been nothing more than a like, as you have no Science equipment. And finally, although you would never tell a living soul this.. Touhou. You don't know what it is, but extreme patterns of bullet fire and absurd difficulty dodging it has always struck well with you. And Hey! These clothes are perfectly good, even if they're a bit too slow for the blur that is FASHION.

[anailater]

+1 Reader, I love homestuck, can't wait too see how this turns out.

[TherosPherae]

Is this guy some kind of hipster? What's with him?
Where's he at, and what could he possibly be doing?
Haven't I seen him before somewhere?

Your name is JACK SPAT.

You live in approximately the SHITCENTER OF NOWHERE, which translates to 'some boring-ass farm in Kansas'. Everything on this farm is STATE-OF-THE-ART and AUTOMATED to the point where the farmers, your PARENTS, don't really stick around any more. In fact, the only things on the farm that aren't farm animals are you and your CAT. You use the phrase 'your' mildly, of course, as the cat tends to sort of wander around wherever it pleases, and you don't feed it or anything. Anyways, you're pretty much the sole CARETAKER of the place, FIXING all the machines when they break. Due to this, you've developed IMPECCABLE RECODING SKILLS and a LOW TOLERANCE FOR POORLY-DESIGNED MACHINERY.

STUPID FARM SHIT aside, you enjoy playing the occasional VIDEO GAME and posting on TECH FORUMS to obliterate the opinions of people who are so obviously WRONG about what GOOD CODING is. You enjoy doing this as a sort of DIGITAL ROGUE, pretending to go on some sort of crusade against terribad code. Of course, the thought that YOU ALONE will be the new leader in some sort of code-refining team is, of course, A LOAD OF BALONEY, especially since you just don't have the TIME between fixing machines, keeping the cat away from important stuff, and playing SKYRIM.

[ShoesandHats]

RANDOM TROLL SPRITE TIME GO



It'll come in handy later.

[freeformschooler]

This douchebag is ANDREW BARROW, and the reason why he looks like he spends all day in front of a computer screen is because he usually does.

You live in RURAL WISCONSIN, and it is that time of year in which the weather decides that it's high time for five feet of SNOW. This year, the weather decided that ANDREW BARROW needs no further education. The roads are completely filled with SNOW, and snowplows only come about once every two months out in the countryside. So instead, you stay in your ROOM, reading the BOOKS you've already read three times over, and playing the same GAMES you've beaten eleven times before. The one GAME you haven't played, nor even touched, isn't coming for a while now.

Your HOBBIES include but are not limited to: VIDEO GAMES, watching POLITICAL TELEVISION, posting on the GULF13 FORUMS, and READING.

It is a quiet day in RURAL WISCONSON. ANDREW BARROW reads forum posts on the INTERNET and hides from the snow in his room at his father's farmhouse. As he's F5'ing to see the newest posts on GULF 13, he hears the sharp screech of a squeaky wheel over ice outside. What could that be?

You kind of live in a mansion too, but you like to think that despite this, you are actually FAIRLY NORMAL. Having a supermodel mother and championship boxer father tends to preclude this though. So does flipping out and beating up the other girls at school when they say you're a boy.

You have a number of hobbies, including BOXING, VIDEO GAMES about fighting, and CARTOONS. LOSING FRIENDS and BEING A LONER are not among your hobbies, but they tend to happen anyway due to your sadly violent tendencies. It really bums you out!

As for this PENNY MANN, she sits quietly in her room in an UNSPECIFIED SUBURBAN MANSION playing video games. Birds whistle and kids play outside as she whittles away her time inside. Breaking her concentration, though, is an unexpected notification that she's gotten a message on her Pesterchum account. Who could it be from?

Your name is ENGELER. ACHIM ENGELER.
It occures to you that this opening would have be so much smoother if your name had less syllables. Well, that's onomastics for you.

You live in a city in WESTERN GERMANY, in your parent's... attic. Hah. Didn't see that one coming.
Your home city is not exactly something to remember though, as it is in a state of creepily accelerating decay. Sometimes when you leave the DUPLEX-HALF and see the rot and erosion, orphaned shop fronts and crumbling plastering, it makes you want to, really want to, well...

You don't leave the house much, though. There is enough food in the fridge for months, and MAMA hasn't bothered you in weeks.
So you spend your time listening to REAL MUSIC, eating, sleeping, working your PROFOUND POETRY, eating, reading certain types of novels, gaming or chatting with your CRAZY FRIENDS, and reading gratuitous amounts of text online. Then you eat again. If your diabolical CAT lets you, that is.

ACHIM ENGELER is quite too old for this story. Or is he? It does not matter, he still lives the peaceful life of a kid. As it stands, he's currently in his attic writing ANGSTY POET MUSIC and reading DEEP LITERATURE, away from the watchful eyes of his terrifying cat, BOOTJACK. As he idles his time away, he hears gun shots outside and squeaky wheels pulling up to his driveway. What will he do? >_

You live in a MODEST 2 STORY HOUSE, in a relatively normal neighborhood in ALL THE WAY OVER IN URBAN ENGLAND. Although it is actually pretty boring around here, other than school work, so you usually play a fair amount of games and reading books between studying. Recently however, you've heard of a new RPG GAME, one that will blow all of the others out of the water. Of course, your BRO always engages in a maddening game of passive-aggressiveness. But otherwise your DAD is a pretty cool DAD.

You enjoy the following hobbies, such as music, as long as its not any metal, SCIENCE. Oh man oh man you love science, but for a while its been nothing more than a like, as you have no Science equipment. And finally, although you would never tell a living soul this.. Touhou. You don't know what it is, but extreme patterns of bullet fire and absurd difficulty dodging it has always struck well with you. And Hey! These clothes are perfectly good, even if they're a bit too slow for the blur that is FASHION.

JONATHAN EVANS' life is quite a bit more dull than the others', but he has some hope in his future as that new RPG GAME he ordered might arrive today! He currently sits in his room on the second story of his TWO-STORY HOUSE. JAPANESE GIRLS IN FRILLY DRESSES dodge bullets across his computer screen, but no one must know of this secret hobby. However, he nearly jumps back upon hearing a loud DING from somewhere downstairs and a soft CLICK nearby. Uh oh...

What will he do? >_

Your name is JACK SPAT.

You live in approximately the SHITCENTER OF NOWHERE, which translates to 'some boring-ass farm in Kansas'. Everything on this farm is STATE-OF-THE-ART and AUTOMATED to the point where the farmers, your PARENTS, don't really stick around any more. In fact, the only things on the farm that aren't farm animals are you and your CAT. You use the phrase 'your' mildly, of course, as the cat tends to sort of wander around wherever it pleases, and you don't feed it or anything. Anyways, you're pretty much the sole CARETAKER of the place, FIXING all the machines when they break. Due to this, you've developed IMPECCABLE RECODING SKILLS and a LOW TOLERANCE FOR POORLY-DESIGNED MACHINERY.

STUPID FARM SHIT aside, you enjoy playing the occasional VIDEO GAME and posting on TECH FORUMS to obliterate the opinions of people who are so obviously WRONG about what GOOD CODING is. You enjoy doing this as a sort of DIGITAL ROGUE, pretending to go on some sort of crusade against terribad code. Of course, the thought that YOU ALONE will be the new leader in some sort of code-refining team is, of course, A LOAD OF BALONEY, especially since you just don't have the TIME between fixing machines, keeping the cat away from important stuff, and playing SKYRIM.

As the loud crrrrggggkkk of fully-automated farm equipment flows through the air outside, JACK SPAT starts INTERNET ARGUMENTS on programming forums on subjects he knows way more about than anyone else. Obviously. However, the crrrrggggkkk becomes louder and sharper as he types, eventually becoming a painful, repetitive RRRRRRCCCCCHHHHHHH. Uh oh, that sounds like a machinery jam!

What will he do? >_

[ShoesandHats]

>Go downstairs and look out the window

[Liber celi]

>HOREY SHIT spill your soft drink all over your lap as you dive for cover; arm yourself as soon as possible

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In ur attic, stalkin ur dood.

O noes, not my dood!

[TherosPherae]

Jack: Go outside, find broken machine, attempt percussive maintenance.

[Ochita]

Jon: Turn the screen monitor off, and rush to answer the door.

[Darvi]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In ur attic, stalkin ur dood.

O noes, not my dood!

Yes ur dood!

[Blade Master Model 42]

Penny: pause your Playstation and proceed to parlay with your pesterer!

[freeformschooler]

>HOREY SHIT spill your soft drink all over your lap as you dive for cover; arm yourself as soon as possible

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In ur attic, stalkin ur dood.

O noes, not my dood!

OH SNAP! It's probably one of those German street fights again. While you're inclined to stay out of it, you'd at least better arm yourself. Now, where was your flamethrower again?



(Visible features: TROMBONE PILE, CHEMISTRY DESK, DISCARDED POETRY, COMPUTER, FRIGHTENING BOOKS, etc.)

Jack: Go outside, find broken machine, attempt percussive maintenance.

You head outside. It's actually quite peaceful out here, the wind blowing in your weird green hair. You can still hear the sound, and it seems to be emanating from somewhere near the road nearby.

Jon: Turn the screen monitor off, and rush to answer the door.

As you turn your monitor off and attempt to head downstairs, you notice that the door to your room won't seem to budge. What the heck? Did someone block you in?

Penny: pause your Playstation and proceed to parlay with your pesterer!

Gah, annoying pesterers. They're like the opposite of friends, even though some of them are pretty friendly. You see what someone's left as a message.

Spoiler: Show Pesterlog (click to show/hide)

--orchestralMachinist began pestering prettyPugilist at ≡∩:±ε--
OM: Greetings again, Ms. Mann.
OM: Are you enjoying yourself on this excellent Summer day?

[Darvi]

Pesterers, putting the pest in pestering since '09.

[Liber celi]

>Achim: Fish HOME-MADE MINI-DEFLAGRATÖR out of the FRIGHTENING BOOK PILE