| Sanity is forbidden |
Circulation: 194,163,747 |
Issue: 743 | 5th day of Hiding, Y18 |
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Short Stories
 | There Is Something In My Closet And It Is Roaring! It was an early evening in Shenkuu. My friends, Jeulienna the Yellow Lenny and Manigolaia the Cloud Ruki and I, Zannidda, a Starry Xweetok, had just enjoyed a mouth-watering dinner together of Pirate Lupe pasta with Cheesy Onion sticks. The discussion on the table was about our favorite games from the Daily Dare Also by alienigenosidad
by applefaerie99 |  | The Song of the SkeithThe beast stalking the herds of Tyrannia is not all that it seems...
by fleurdust |
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Back to School: Essentials and ‘Essentially Avoid’s
It had been a while since the BD Chat had something to buzz about. The excitement of the New BD had long worn off. The Smuggler’s Cove had remained empty for years. After 15 years of barely venturing outside the BD Chat, it was time to for me to see what else this site had to offer. And with the Games Master Challenge underway I figured that would be a good place to start. With the BD forgotten, I set about playing flash games that I hadn’t even realized existed.
Then along came a volleyball.
Other Stories
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 Erin's Extreme Avatar Guide: Hungry Skeith
A lot of folks consider Hungry Skeith to be an average-to-difficult game avatar. Admittedly, this was in my top five of game avatars I struggled with the most. After playing for hours and hours, I developed a few strategies that I hope will help others on their path to avatar glory.
by krazypinkgurl |
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 Desert Requiem: Part Eight
Defying his physician's instructions to remain in bed, Jazan summoned an emergency council as soon as he was alerted to the disappearances. Ambassador Farisem did not attend the meeting, citing indisposition.
by kalnya |
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 Clouds Over Cogham: Part Eleven
If the heartache of loss could be summarised in sound, it would be the din that fills Cogham as the villagers are dragged to the site of their inevitable demise. The fires burn bright, and the hatred burns brighter, and the world is aglow in a sickly gold, blanketed by a warmth that feels strangely like frostbite.
by theschizophrenicpunk |
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