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Description
TBG Otter: Welcome, traveler of worlds, to TBG. There is no hope here. There is no solace. No elation shall you find in these halls; no joy springs from these grounds. Nothing and no one is here; nothing is here; no one is here. All is darkness, all is quiet, all is silence. From gray we arise; to gray we return; all is the douring mist of the gray. Do not tarry, do not linger, do not remain - unless to this unlightened realm you stake your claim. All is for nothing and nothing is all. This is the oasis of the unrequited and the soul denied. This is the perception that in unity we choke instead of thrive. Come, come into the hazes, if you'll let the smoky blandness take your spirit and bind it to atrophy. Life was your utopia. TBG is your reality. Come unto the fountain of the grim and the unsated; yea, and drink the drops of motionless dependence on the low. Come and let your heart be turned to ash where time ran slow. Come.....and be forgotten in the memory.

TBG Cenek: *lays in a thick miasma of gray, staring at nothing, only breathing slowly for a few minutes before dissolving into the landscape.*

Tek and I like to make up alternate realities for TGB. BGT is like the campy drugged version, while TBG is monotone gray land.

Otter and the nice long paragraph belong to

Description
TBG Otter: Welcome, traveler of worlds, to TBG. There is no hope here. There is no solace. No elation shall you find in these halls; no joy springs from these grounds. Nothing and no one is here; nothing is here; no one is here. All is darkness, all is quiet, all is silence. From gray we arise; to gray we return; all is the douring mist of the gray. Do not tarry, do not linger, do not remain - unless to this unlightened realm you stake your claim. All is for nothing and nothing is all. This is the oasis of the unrequited and the soul denied. This is the perception that in unity we choke instead of thrive. Come, come into the hazes, if you'll let the smoky blandness take your spirit and bind it to atrophy. Life was your utopia. TBG is your reality. Come unto the fountain of the grim and the unsated; yea, and drink the drops of motionless dependence on the low. Come and let your heart be turned to ash where time ran slow. Come.....and be forgotten in the memory.

TBG Cenek: *lays in a thick miasma of gray, staring at nothing, only breathing slowly for a few minutes before dissolving into the landscape.*

Tek and I like to make up alternate realities for TGB. BGT is like the campy drugged version, while TBG is monotone gray land.

Otter and the nice long paragraph belong to