Fluff Ghetto (fluffy RP containment thread)

Right, you lot, they don't want you clogging up the mainstream with your fluffy RPing. You know what that means?

INTO THE FLUFF GHETTO WITH YOU!

(Also pre-emptively Biigoh, relevant to your interests)

Let thread be home to all freeform fluffy, or other RPing, that is unwelcome in serious threads.

*Pets tiny pupper*

 

*Anon mewls pitifully as they are thrown into the Ghetto!*

W-why...?! Where are my hoomans! My food! My pets?!

 

*Backs away slowly*

Did you just refer to humans as food and pets?

 

Silly you. Hoomans aren't pets. They are too stupid for that, they are slaves. And they are only emergency food supply for when their powers to get me food without hunting suddenly disappear!

As long as they continue to give me tribute and worship they are fine~

 

Not even lewd pets?

 

My slaves pleasure me because I allow it. They stop the moment I demand it, even if I have to use claws.

 

Mew.
*looks around in confusion*
Kitty is confused.

 

*Approaches the kitten and starts licking them*
You are going to be mine nao. Nyan~

 

*Majestically wapapapapa-pows*

Foxes are fluffiest! Alias I summon you!

 

I can't see shit, Captain.

 

Mya~
*licks back*

*baps ur nose with paw*
Nooo fighting

 

*pets all the things!*

 

You are all a bunch of ...... pussies?

 

That's the spirit!

 

Mew.

 

*Becomes an cat-sized dragon*

*Rawrs cutely!*

 

Mew
*boops nose*

 

Rawr!

*Boops nose with tail and runs away!*

 

nu escap from kitteh
*rolls after dragon*

 

Sudo become Pseudodragon.

 

I canawr escape from everythingawr!

I am fiah! I am deth!
Rawr!

*Jumps on Priapus's head*

 

*Is now a dragon-crowned god*

*attempts to bring a reign of boners upon the world*

 

*kitten stares at boner*
*hits it very hard with paw*

 

*BLUSHES*

 

Does napping next to the radiator count as valid participation in this thread?

 

°flops next to Bailey and starts licking them°

 

Kitty mewls, "Lewd!"

 

The aged spaniel shuffles into the room. Though his hearing is failing him, he can still make out the rustle of a food packet from the other end of the house. Though his eyes are diminished, his nose still works just fine to alert him to the presence of tasty morsels. Even as the arthritis plagues him so, it does not prevent him from getting up on the counter to retrieve any delights that one of the Gods may have so thoughtfully left out for him.

A great sniff brings disappointment. The Gods are not present, nor is there anything tasty lurking nearby. The room is entirely without interest, and so he shambles over to a comfortable rug by the radiator, flopping onto his belly with a great sigh.

He cares not that his wanderings may have inconvenienced one of the indignant puffballs. They are tricksy, capricious, and generally inedible, and therefore best ignored.

Basking in the warmth of the radiator he drifts into slumber, pausing on his way only to release a tremendous fart.

He dreams of a field full of frolicking sausage links, inattentive and incautious to the predations of a mighty hunter.

 

Only if you tell us about it.

*places Soft Meat Crown on head of the old dog*

 

The aged spaniel awakes. Something is near.

A quick snuffling reveals the presence of God. More importantly, the scent of a dainty morsel fills his nose. There is a light pressure on his forehead... he remembers this.

Ancient hips creak in protest as the mighty, noble hound rises majestically onto his haunches. His spine straightens as he balances upon his buttocks, forelimbs proudly held in a beautiful pose. The morsel sits safely atop his head, as God ordained it should, so long ago. The tail wags, signalling to God that he is attentive, and ready for the holy command.

...Or for God to look away for half a second.

You know.

Either way's fine.