Forums / Roleplaying / The sweet wars

Alright, I'm still going to do the story, but this will be an RP about sweets, biscuits and all that junk fighting each other and stuff(By the way Demonsul, I was considering this anyway, but I wasn't sure...).


Anyhow, here you go -
Sign-ups(name only, I just want a vague idea of numbers)

Twilight joins the crumbs and pieces!

I call the human race :P

actually, if i could, I would like to be Lord Suegar/sugar

Can I have multiple characters?

Ok, let's get this started. It's the biscuits(cookies) v sweets v pastries/cakes/scones/buns/muffins v crisps / chocolate(b*beep*tc., as long as it doesn't fall under the other categories. E.g. Chocolate muffin(ugh) are under pastries etc.). Anything you can think of that has been left out(doesn't fit into the above categories), please tell me. Choose which side you want. You can have one external character, Sdrawkcab can have "Lord Sugar" for example. They have nothing to do directly with the wars. (Milk(and other dairy products), flour, fruits etc. are a few more examples you can have)

okay I'll be crisps/choclate

Bob Laughing Face is a easter bunny chocolate. Always smiling in the face of danger, he loves to jump extremely high and fall on the heads of his enemies.

Mishap Mayhem was a disaster from the start, they used choclate and crsips to make him, then put him a ball sculpt, but they burnt him. He was sccared for life after that, but due to the burning, his body is extra tough. So slow he may be, but a juggarnat he is.

Demonsul stared around. The counter was a hive of activity. Almost a hundred chocolate bars had assembled, all massing together for the impending attack on the Fridge. The attack had been planned for weeks; the Fridge contained many chocolates, all trapped by the evil Pastries. Thus the brave Chocolate legion assembled below. Ideas of brave heroism often worked up a crowd.

It was so easy to get worked up into such a mob. Demonsul turned away. The Chocolates were marching to their doom; that Fridge was a fortress. Nothing got in, and things only rarely got out. Someone would have to do something, or a hundred Chocolates would die. And Demonsul felt like it was his job to do it.

Climbing down from the top of the Toaster, Demonsul made his way quietly ahead. He would have to act, but he had time; the Chocolate Army would take ages crossing the expanse of the Counter, especially circumnavigating the Sink. whereas a single chocolate bar could cross with ease.

Demonsul set off, moving quickly across the smooth Counter before long, he was a good way ahead of the Chocolate army. But he still heard the call; the army was starting to move...

---

On the other side of the Kitchen, Michael Ironcrumb was out on patrol. He was enjoying himself; to Ironcrumb there was nothing better than taking out a few Sweets in the morning. He enjoyed slamming them over the side of the Counter and watching them plummet to their doom on the Tiles below. He was one of the few who enjoyed being near the Counter's edge, most stayed a good distance away.

Strolling past the shattered remains of a plucky lemon sherbert, Ironcrumb heard the high-pitched voices of sweets. He was about to charge toward them when he realized there were far more than he could handle. In some part of his crumb-sized brain, Ironcrumb's self-preservation instinct flared. He moved behind the tall tower of the salt shaker.

"Right!" bellowed a sweet. "We need to take this part of the counter! Too long have the cookies encroached on our land!"

"That's right! We need to eliminate them!" shouted another.

Ironcrumb didn't know what echroached or eliminate meant, but they sounded dangerous. His squinted eyes creeped past the edge of the salt shaker, to see that there were all of fifteen sweets ahead. Fifteen! He couldn't take that many, he didn't have a chance! Moving backward, Ironcrumb knocked a slender spoon from it's position propped up against a tin. The steel implement fell, with a resounding crash. The sweets were immediately alert. they began to move cautiously towards the fallen spoon...

Skit, a young sweet, one of the wrappingless ones, stared at the vast expanse of the great Room. He was just out of the packet, and glad of it. No more was there the bickering voices of dozens of sweets, unwise in the ways of the world. He had previously been called Blue forty seven, but once out of the packet he could choose a proper name. As after the custom of his kind, he took the name of one of the first pieces of writing he had seen. Nearly all sweets, biscuits and the like could read at least a little.
          He was but a little sweet, not quite spherical, but near it. He was blue, made of some strange thin outer skin and a soft chocolate centre. He pondered briefly as to why the press was open. All presses had been equipped with a device to make it openable, at least somewhat. It required a lot of sweetpower to do that however. They were closed for the most part at any rate. He climbed up to the counter.
          Once there he saw biscuits and sweets fighting each other. There were not many biscuits, but their huge frame was threatening. Skit went back into the press.

isnt Septim playing? where is demonsul, has he gone inactive again?  >.<

*sigh* Are ye not going to do anything? (by the way, scuttlery was meant to refer to plates, bowls and such stuff. I don't know what the word is.)


The army of bars marched onwards. Singake grinned as they marched right into their ambush. They had ignored a single bar of dark chocolate as it passed. He yelled, and the trap was sprung. The tarts pushed a score of bars over the side before they knew anything about it. The bars recovered quickly, and knowing they would be beaten, retreated rapidly. The pastries could not keep up with them. They had lost four buns and two tarts, while the bars had lost twenty five. They were not finished yet though, Singake thought to himself.

Elsewhere, Skit was recounting the fierce battles he had faced with the biscuits, huddled in a circle with various other sweets. He told how he had led one to his death, who had fallen to the Floor, its crumbs scattering when it hit the floor. His companions also told such tales. They passed a while in such ways, Skit being contented with his day of adventures.

Demonsul stealthily climbed the fridge. He had seen the battle; he had not had enough time to stop it. Sneaking into the cold depths, Demonsul felt himself toughen up in the low temperature. Ah yes, this climate was made for chocolate!
Looking round, he saw all he needed to. With the door shut, the fridge was dark, but he could see well enough. Climbing to the top level of the fridge, Demonsul took a breath, then he jumped behind a resting pastry  and knocked it out. Dragging the pastry away, he threw it into the Ice Maker. As the ice maker closed, Demonsul knew the pastry would become sodden, and remain trapped in there forever, too damp to call out.
Moving to where the pastry had been, Demonsul was pleased to find he had taken out the right person; the trapped chocolates were now unguarded. Moving swiftly towards the large multipack which housed them, Demonsul carefully broke it open. He explained himself, and the chocolates decided to make their escape.