- Joined
- Jan 4, 2020
Wow! And it still looks fucking awful! As said above, not hard to improve garbage but it is still garbage.
This is a basic fucking pixel art brick:
The Tenacious Unicorn Ranch / @TenaciousRanch / Steampunk Penny / Penellope Logue / Phillip Matthew Logue - Don't cry because it ended, laugh because it's still getting worse.
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This is a basic fucking pixel art brick:
FreeCandyVan
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Sep 29, 2014
Takes skill to produce art that looks that terrible with 200 art AIs all giving their shit away free
Attractive Sexhaver
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2021
I don't want to defend a literal shit eating lunatic, but a true artist doesn't measure his output against the world, but instead measures the output of today against what he made yesterday.
Is the game he's making good, or entertaining in any way shape or form? No, of course it isn't. But is it better than what he was previously doing with his free time, which was making credible death threats on twitter which forced his gross troon boyfriend Kevin crash out? Again, the answer is no.
Is the game he's making good, or entertaining in any way shape or form? No, of course it isn't. But is it better than what he was previously doing with his free time, which was making credible death threats on twitter which forced his gross troon boyfriend Kevin crash out? Again, the answer is no.
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2018
He's been working on that game for damn near a decade now.
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2021
It's better than fedposting or Kevin-style thirstposting.
Imagine if he'd never taken the troon detour, and just been a NEET "game designer" goblin holed up in Penny's back room this whole time. So much money and suffering saved.
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2016
I have questions, like why does your "final zone" remind me more of the first castle in Dragon Quest than a final dungeon? Why are there no last minute treasure chests to grab? Why is there what appears to be a throne room only one or two rooms from the entrance (I assume the little space at the bottom is the entrance)? Why does your wall decor start and end with bookshelves, no wall shields, no torches or sconces, no skulls, no character! The rugs are a nice touch I will concede that but you need more color! Pull an Eric Andre, "WHAT IF IT WAS PURPLE!?"
I won't say I could do better, but I think I tried a little harder at least. And I was just screwing around.
- Joined
- Aug 21, 2018
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2020
Michael/Jen is still in the polycule. Kevin mentions him from time to time. He's suspended from Bluesky, I searched his username and found this amusing post. The Tranch may be gone, but the memory lives on in the hearts of men!
I also found an "erotic" story by Michael.
Description.
Tags.
"Look at all that dust and grime building up in you, you really have to be more careful with my property." Your owner admonishes. "Anyway, maybe a change is in order." You look up at her as she pulls open the bottom drawer, where she keeps her little tune-up kit. She turns back to the bed and unrolls the leather tool pouch. She pulls the largest screwdriver out and looks at you. "Lie back on the bed, this will take a little bit of time. You wonder how much help she can render, but you obediently do as you are told. Your owner holds your leg with one hand while she works the screwdriver. Several long screws are pulled from your hip, and you can no longer feel the warmth of your owner's hand. You watch, entranced, as the malfunctioning limb detaches. The gears in the hip spin free as you try to move the now removed leg. Your owner smacks your other hip lightly, "You know that will grind down your bearings faster." Remembering you got into this position by not taking good enough care of yourself, you obey. She screws an end cap into place, and you feel some resistance trying to move the gears that controlled your left leg. Your owner looks down at you discerningly for a moment.
"I think you'd look much better if you were symmetrical, don't you think, my dear doll?" Your neck clicks as you look at her slightly askew. "Symmetrical, Madam?" The room is silent, save for the soft winding of your central spring. "Glad you agree, then." You watch wordlessly as she works, bent over your torso. Your right leg slides off as easily as the left and a matching end is screwed into place. "Don't worry, you still have what's actually important" She says slyly as a hand runs across your hip nubs before sliding a finger into you. "Madam!" She looks up at you. "No, no, you are right, finish our work before pleasure." She replies to you before crawling up the bed, and pulls the joining screw from your right shoulder, and you gasp as she removes your arm. She leans over you, her breasts barely contained by the buttons of her top as she works on your left arm. She takes both arms and stacks them by your legs before securing your shoulders with caps similar to the ones on your hips. "One more moment, my dear, and we can have our fun." She disappears from the room, carrying your arms and legs over her shoulder.
She closes the door behind her, and you are left by yourself. You try to pass the time by testing what level of mobility you have now, though you quickly learn that you have essentially none. You can bend forward, lift your shoulders and head by some modest amount, and even twist to face a new direction. However you can't actually move from the spot your owner has left you in. You don't need to see the clock to know exactly how long you've been waiting, the tick of your spring continues unceasingly. Your owner returns, one hand undoing her button up top. Her member is clearly visible in her jeans, and she closes the door behind her as her top falls to the ground. By the time she reaches the bed, she is hopping on one leg, pulling her pants and underwear off at the same time. Her girlprick begins to glisten with precum as she runs a hand from your shoulder, down to the cap on the end of your hip. She leans in, and your lips meet. Her eyes glisten with ideas as she pulls away.
You find yourself being rolled onto your chest, your face into the pillow. You owner's girldick probes and pushes into the soft lining of your vagina, as gyroscopes and springs bounce to life. Her hands grab your shoulders, fingernails pressing against firm coverings. Her member presses to the end of your custom sized fittings, slowing your main spring along with your perception of the world. Ratcheting gears click, and you involuntarily moan. A hand slides along your scalp, and grabs a handful of your silk hair before pulling your head back from the pillow. "I am happy to hear you agree how much fun this is." She whispers into your ear. Her girlcock slides in and out of you with enough force to move your body closer to the headboard, and your head pulls back even farther. Her tongue traces along the back of your neck, before legging go of your hair. Both hands are back on your shoulders, now pulling you onto her girldick with each thrust. The sound of her breathing grows louder than the noise of your clockwork, and you cry out again. Your limbs would be trembling were they still attached to you, from the waves of pleasure running through you.
Each throb of her member in you pushes you closer to the edge, as she slams into you. She pushes faster and harder, as your eyes shut and your body shakes. Then nothing, you are empty again. Your owner's legs appear on either side of you, and she turns you onto your back again. The lust in her eyes burns with more intensity than the sun, and she pulls you onto her girlcock as she leans back. You balance precariously on her, trying to move limbs that aren't there anymore to steady yourself. Her hands hold your hips firmly as she maneuvers you into place. She starts to gently buck her hips, and your view rises and falls as her member bounces in and out inside of you. A soft "Oh Madam" escapes your lips as a sigh, while her hard girlcock keeps you centered over her. You watch your owner's face grow flush, and she closes her eyes in deep concentration. Her hip thrusts throw you farther along her member with each push now, her hands gently guiding you back into place each time. She sharply inhales. "Fuck." Your owner quakes underneath you and holds you up after a powerful bounce pulls her feet flat against the bed; letting you rest on her upper legs while sliding slowly down her girlcock again.
As you reach her hips, she bucks you up again, only to gently slide down her legs. She gently probes your suede lined clitoris with her thumb, and your shoulders fall limply against her knees. The stimulation stutter your jaw, and you can't clearly express how intense a sensation it is. The thrusts maintain a steady speed, but increase in strength. Again and again, your owner's girlprick shoves you up along her legs, and the slow slide back down before she thrusts again, with ever increasing power. Your owner meets your gaze again, this time a bestial lust glowing in her eyes. Her thumb continues to tease and rub at your clit, until she sends you into clicking spasms. The clockwork orgasm runs through your system, and you hardly notice your owner's hands pulling you by the hips again as she splashes her seed inside of you. She catches her breath, as your spring starts to regulate your system again. "Was that way fun for you too, my dear dolly?" "Yes Madam," You hesitate for a moment. "That was quite enjoyable." She rolls on her side as you answer, taking you gently to the bed with her.
She slips out of you, and faces you away from her. Her arms bring you close to her body, and she kisses the back of your neck. A soft yawn fills your ear, and it sounds like your owner is settling in for a nap. Her grasp around you loosens slightly as she gets comfortable. You listen to her breathing slow, compared to the ceaseless tick inside of you. The tranquility of the moment is broken by a sharp knock at the door. You had no idea that Madam had a guest over; could you blush, you would. She awakes with a start, and sits up. You roll to your back and watch her quickly dress. She tosses the panties to the side, and buttons up her top. "Oh, I had Heather over, doing a bit of work for me," she explains before answering the knock. "I hope I wasn't too long, Angie?" Heather's voice floats into the room. "Oh, we found a way to pass the time," your owner casually answers as she closes the door behind her. As before, you can do little else beyond wait for your owner. The time passes with the same rigorous regularity, but being helpless and away from her is disconcerting in a new way. By the time the door opens again, you miss her in a way you haven't ever before.
She comes back into sight, carrying a pair of clockwork arms, and a pair of legs. Your owner lays the lifeless limbs on the bed next to you, and fetches her tool roll again. The cap on your left hip comes off just as fast as it went on, and she carefully fits the left leg into the joint. The long screws spin back into place with little effort and the leg jumps as you feel it. "Try to move your hip, carefully." You follow the order, as she slowly guides the limb through your range of movement. "Tell me if you can feel this," she says matter-of-factly while squeezing your toes. The light pressure of her thumb and forefinger speeds though you. "Yes, Madam, I can feel you squeeze." She smiles, a more gentle smile than before. After clambering over you she performs a similar operation on your right hip. The end cap laid to the side, and the limb attached once more. Instead of your hip though, she tests the knee that had been malfunctioning before. Just like with your left leg, your right works at least as good as new and has all the sensations Madam desires of you. She grabs the arms, pulls them up by your shoulder and picks the right arm up.
She lays it between your shoulder and her leg, as she kneels beside you. Replacing the lighter arm is even quicker than your leg, and within moments she is bending your elbow and having you rotate your wrists. Afterwards she reaches across you once more and, this time, replaces your left arm instead of removing it. This arm passes her tests just like the rest of your limbs have. Your owner clasps your hands together gently in hers and kisses your fingertips. "I love you my precious doll. Heather replaced the wearing gears and spent springs, these should stand up to more use than they had before." She leans over and kisses you on the lips, before pulling you down to the bed and wrapping her arms around you for an afternoon nap.
There are even more horrifying examples of his writing here.
I also found an "erotic" story by Michael.
Description.
Tags.
Heart of Gears
The mid-morning light streams in from the window, and into the glass of your eyes. Your owner must have gotten up earlier, she isn't in bed. Deciding to make the bed before she returns, you move to get out of the bed but your left leg refuses to move. The gyroscopic ball joint has been grinding for weeks now, but has never completely locked up before. If your delicate clockwork nervous system could experience pain, you are sure your body would be aching now. The front door slams shut, it must be your owner coming back in. Trying to stand before she can see you like this, you pull yourself to the edge of the bed and steady yourself with your right leg. Perched on the edge of the bed, you pull your left leg to the edge. The actuator has been acting up more, and limiting your movement; but this is the first time it's refused to fire at all. "dolly, has your spring wound down? Are you alright?" You hear your owner call from out of the room. You don't want to upset her with more work, but you need help now. She walks in before you can answer, a frown on her face. She stands in the door, jeans and plaid button up on. "Left hip locked up? I have noticed how restricted your movements have been. Your right knee too; and I know both of your wrists are stripping out too." She walks to the edge of the bed and looks at the clear plex-steel shell of your right arm."Look at all that dust and grime building up in you, you really have to be more careful with my property." Your owner admonishes. "Anyway, maybe a change is in order." You look up at her as she pulls open the bottom drawer, where she keeps her little tune-up kit. She turns back to the bed and unrolls the leather tool pouch. She pulls the largest screwdriver out and looks at you. "Lie back on the bed, this will take a little bit of time. You wonder how much help she can render, but you obediently do as you are told. Your owner holds your leg with one hand while she works the screwdriver. Several long screws are pulled from your hip, and you can no longer feel the warmth of your owner's hand. You watch, entranced, as the malfunctioning limb detaches. The gears in the hip spin free as you try to move the now removed leg. Your owner smacks your other hip lightly, "You know that will grind down your bearings faster." Remembering you got into this position by not taking good enough care of yourself, you obey. She screws an end cap into place, and you feel some resistance trying to move the gears that controlled your left leg. Your owner looks down at you discerningly for a moment.
"I think you'd look much better if you were symmetrical, don't you think, my dear doll?" Your neck clicks as you look at her slightly askew. "Symmetrical, Madam?" The room is silent, save for the soft winding of your central spring. "Glad you agree, then." You watch wordlessly as she works, bent over your torso. Your right leg slides off as easily as the left and a matching end is screwed into place. "Don't worry, you still have what's actually important" She says slyly as a hand runs across your hip nubs before sliding a finger into you. "Madam!" She looks up at you. "No, no, you are right, finish our work before pleasure." She replies to you before crawling up the bed, and pulls the joining screw from your right shoulder, and you gasp as she removes your arm. She leans over you, her breasts barely contained by the buttons of her top as she works on your left arm. She takes both arms and stacks them by your legs before securing your shoulders with caps similar to the ones on your hips. "One more moment, my dear, and we can have our fun." She disappears from the room, carrying your arms and legs over her shoulder.
She closes the door behind her, and you are left by yourself. You try to pass the time by testing what level of mobility you have now, though you quickly learn that you have essentially none. You can bend forward, lift your shoulders and head by some modest amount, and even twist to face a new direction. However you can't actually move from the spot your owner has left you in. You don't need to see the clock to know exactly how long you've been waiting, the tick of your spring continues unceasingly. Your owner returns, one hand undoing her button up top. Her member is clearly visible in her jeans, and she closes the door behind her as her top falls to the ground. By the time she reaches the bed, she is hopping on one leg, pulling her pants and underwear off at the same time. Her girlprick begins to glisten with precum as she runs a hand from your shoulder, down to the cap on the end of your hip. She leans in, and your lips meet. Her eyes glisten with ideas as she pulls away.
You find yourself being rolled onto your chest, your face into the pillow. You owner's girldick probes and pushes into the soft lining of your vagina, as gyroscopes and springs bounce to life. Her hands grab your shoulders, fingernails pressing against firm coverings. Her member presses to the end of your custom sized fittings, slowing your main spring along with your perception of the world. Ratcheting gears click, and you involuntarily moan. A hand slides along your scalp, and grabs a handful of your silk hair before pulling your head back from the pillow. "I am happy to hear you agree how much fun this is." She whispers into your ear. Her girlcock slides in and out of you with enough force to move your body closer to the headboard, and your head pulls back even farther. Her tongue traces along the back of your neck, before legging go of your hair. Both hands are back on your shoulders, now pulling you onto her girldick with each thrust. The sound of her breathing grows louder than the noise of your clockwork, and you cry out again. Your limbs would be trembling were they still attached to you, from the waves of pleasure running through you.
Each throb of her member in you pushes you closer to the edge, as she slams into you. She pushes faster and harder, as your eyes shut and your body shakes. Then nothing, you are empty again. Your owner's legs appear on either side of you, and she turns you onto your back again. The lust in her eyes burns with more intensity than the sun, and she pulls you onto her girlcock as she leans back. You balance precariously on her, trying to move limbs that aren't there anymore to steady yourself. Her hands hold your hips firmly as she maneuvers you into place. She starts to gently buck her hips, and your view rises and falls as her member bounces in and out inside of you. A soft "Oh Madam" escapes your lips as a sigh, while her hard girlcock keeps you centered over her. You watch your owner's face grow flush, and she closes her eyes in deep concentration. Her hip thrusts throw you farther along her member with each push now, her hands gently guiding you back into place each time. She sharply inhales. "Fuck." Your owner quakes underneath you and holds you up after a powerful bounce pulls her feet flat against the bed; letting you rest on her upper legs while sliding slowly down her girlcock again.
As you reach her hips, she bucks you up again, only to gently slide down her legs. She gently probes your suede lined clitoris with her thumb, and your shoulders fall limply against her knees. The stimulation stutter your jaw, and you can't clearly express how intense a sensation it is. The thrusts maintain a steady speed, but increase in strength. Again and again, your owner's girlprick shoves you up along her legs, and the slow slide back down before she thrusts again, with ever increasing power. Your owner meets your gaze again, this time a bestial lust glowing in her eyes. Her thumb continues to tease and rub at your clit, until she sends you into clicking spasms. The clockwork orgasm runs through your system, and you hardly notice your owner's hands pulling you by the hips again as she splashes her seed inside of you. She catches her breath, as your spring starts to regulate your system again. "Was that way fun for you too, my dear dolly?" "Yes Madam," You hesitate for a moment. "That was quite enjoyable." She rolls on her side as you answer, taking you gently to the bed with her.
She slips out of you, and faces you away from her. Her arms bring you close to her body, and she kisses the back of your neck. A soft yawn fills your ear, and it sounds like your owner is settling in for a nap. Her grasp around you loosens slightly as she gets comfortable. You listen to her breathing slow, compared to the ceaseless tick inside of you. The tranquility of the moment is broken by a sharp knock at the door. You had no idea that Madam had a guest over; could you blush, you would. She awakes with a start, and sits up. You roll to your back and watch her quickly dress. She tosses the panties to the side, and buttons up her top. "Oh, I had Heather over, doing a bit of work for me," she explains before answering the knock. "I hope I wasn't too long, Angie?" Heather's voice floats into the room. "Oh, we found a way to pass the time," your owner casually answers as she closes the door behind her. As before, you can do little else beyond wait for your owner. The time passes with the same rigorous regularity, but being helpless and away from her is disconcerting in a new way. By the time the door opens again, you miss her in a way you haven't ever before.
She comes back into sight, carrying a pair of clockwork arms, and a pair of legs. Your owner lays the lifeless limbs on the bed next to you, and fetches her tool roll again. The cap on your left hip comes off just as fast as it went on, and she carefully fits the left leg into the joint. The long screws spin back into place with little effort and the leg jumps as you feel it. "Try to move your hip, carefully." You follow the order, as she slowly guides the limb through your range of movement. "Tell me if you can feel this," she says matter-of-factly while squeezing your toes. The light pressure of her thumb and forefinger speeds though you. "Yes, Madam, I can feel you squeeze." She smiles, a more gentle smile than before. After clambering over you she performs a similar operation on your right hip. The end cap laid to the side, and the limb attached once more. Instead of your hip though, she tests the knee that had been malfunctioning before. Just like with your left leg, your right works at least as good as new and has all the sensations Madam desires of you. She grabs the arms, pulls them up by your shoulder and picks the right arm up.
She lays it between your shoulder and her leg, as she kneels beside you. Replacing the lighter arm is even quicker than your leg, and within moments she is bending your elbow and having you rotate your wrists. Afterwards she reaches across you once more and, this time, replaces your left arm instead of removing it. This arm passes her tests just like the rest of your limbs have. Your owner clasps your hands together gently in hers and kisses your fingertips. "I love you my precious doll. Heather replaced the wearing gears and spent springs, these should stand up to more use than they had before." She leans over and kisses you on the lips, before pulling you down to the bed and wrapping her arms around you for an afternoon nap.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2021
It's funny how now the Tranch is being considered a cautionary tale on "building a queer commune" while during the "siege of Earl" these same clowns were acting like the Tranch had to survive in order to fight "fascism".The Tranch may be gone, but the memory lives on in the hearts of men!
- Joined
- Dec 24, 2018
Why, if I didn't know better, it's almost like those icky Kiwi Farmers were right and putting a bunch of mentally ill, dysgenic freaks together in an isolated house would result in a mess!
Procopius
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2022
If you're one of those who thought that Saved by the Bell: Hawaiian Style was better than the original, brace yourselves for The Tranch - The Riverdance Years.
(from the Kevin thread)
(from the Kevin thread)
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2021
Wait a minute ... they're not planning on joining that island tranny compound some paddy troon is supposedly setting up, are they?
- Joined
- Jan 4, 2020
📚 Megathread Post in thread 'Tranny Sideshows on Social Media'
Is probably just some tranny bullshit but this bluesky using troon claims to be poised to take ownership of an entire Irish island to use as some sort of tranny commune.
Hope he goes through with it could be funny.
https://bsky.app/profile/sheg7.bsky.social/post/3mh4znvygxk2t
Hope he goes through with it could be funny.
https://bsky.app/profile/sheg7.bsky.social/post/3mh4znvygxk2t
Reactions:
x 16 x 10 x 4 x 1 x 1 x 1 x 6 x 6
x 16 x 10 x 4 x 1 x 1 x 1 x 6 x 6
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2021
Thank you. I couldn't remember where it had been posted.
📚 Megathread Post in thread 'Tranny Sideshows on Social Media'
Is probably just some tranny bullshit but this bluesky using troon claims to be poised to take ownership of an entire Irish island to use as some sort of tranny commune.
Hope he goes through with it could be funny.
https://bsky.app/profile/sheg7.bsky.social/post/3mh4znvygxk2tReactions:
- Joined
- Dec 24, 2018
Tranch Season 3: IRA Edition, let's go!
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2022
A ranch is easy mode because if things go south you can run away or hitchike to the nearest city. I have fuzzy memories but I think the Tranch was not so far away from some larger settlements.
An island is hard mode. First of all, you need to move all things by sea. If the boat breaks due to negligence or some loony troon runs away in it then the commune is stranded. They wont be able to farm jack shit there.
I hope they do actually make the commune, the shit that could go down there has potential to make the national news within a year.
An island is hard mode. First of all, you need to move all things by sea. If the boat breaks due to negligence or some loony troon runs away in it then the commune is stranded. They wont be able to farm jack shit there.
I hope they do actually make the commune, the shit that could go down there has potential to make the national news within a year.
- Joined
- Jul 19, 2020
And even if they do, how are they planning to keep the cashflow to pay for the island? Generally speaking, uninhabited islands tend to not be near farmers markets. Self sufficiency only gets you so far if you're leasing the land, you've gotta earn money somehow.
As usual, it'll degrade into a begging grift and "we'll open an etsy", except the nearest post service is three hours by boat.
On the other hand, Earls militia get to live out their high seas pirate dreams.
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2020
Nonsense. The small islands off the west coast of Ireland are of course historically renowned for their "fertile farmland" capable of sustaining a comfortable standard of living, and their pleasant, hospitable climate all year 'round. This all sounds like a fantastic, indeed visionary, idea. They should make sure to bring lots and lots of cameras, to document the triumph of their success.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2021
I hope it happens and the Tranch clowns do go there. The potential for lulz will be off the chart. Imagine Kevvy, used to life as a kept troon, being forced out of his goon cave to till the soil, all while complaining that there's no Hi-C Ecto Cooler. Imagine once it gets to the winter, how long will it be before they start even burning Kevin's plastic toys, the toxic fumes be damned. The best part is, Phil won't be able to threaten everyone with his meme FN 5.7.
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2022
Generally speaking uninhabited islands are uninhabited for a reason
I remember that a map with a lot of islands or water is the hardest in games like SimCity or openTTD