DeadSeraphim

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]IQ tests are pretty irrelevant. They don't actually measure your intelligence, rather, they measure your ability to do IQ tests. So many people take them as proof of whether you're dumb or not, though, which is a bit sad, heh. Last time I did an IQ test my IQ was 142. I have a friend who has 178, but he's notoriously stubborn and scores grades in the low Bs, high Cs, so I guess that shows the validity of them, lol.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]I'm a spiritualist, which is basically where I believe in a life after death, and psychic phenomenon and basically being [i]good[/i] to people. The nature of spiritualism, though, is that it's pretty personal how you choose (and what you choose) to believe, so it has no real belief structure either, heh. It is not to be confused with Wicca. I'm pretty sure you'd get a fair mix of Christians and Atheists/Agnostics from this, heh. And atheism isn't really a religion, as, in fact, it doesn't have a belief structure. People just don't believe in God, when they're atheistic. It's not like they go to a church to celebrate their lack of belief in God, or have a bible that says 'Don't believe in God this way'. Heh.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]Sorry, that was a one-shot. ;D Oh, and the site this refers to is my old site, which is dead. Lol.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR] Rivals: Part 1 Shinmaru entered the White Butterfly with a sense of trepidation. It's walls were as clean as snow, and on them five doors were situated. A much out-dated plaque was embedded in thr ground, announcing this place as the home of Alan, the n00b Hunter. Out of his natural habitat, the Kingpin breathed deeply and strode across the laboratory clean floor and opened the door labeled 'Blog', hoping to find the n00b Hunter. Instead a small robot, the words 'MT' chiseled on its back, flew up to him, scanning him for a moment before flying off again, presumably to report its findings. all was silent for a few moments, until... 'I'm in the links room,' Alan called, making Shinmaru almost jump out of his skin. Composing himself, the Kingpin closed the door to the blog and opened the Links door right next to it, finding his quarry at last. 'What do you want?' Alan asked, scanning the thumbnails of his links for webcomics that had updated, his back to the visitor. Shinmaru straightened his tie as Alan opened MegaTokyo, and said, 'He's back. Sonic Blaster has returned.' At once the screen through which Alan viewed MegaTokyo became static, and the very walls of White Butterfly began to bend as his incredibly bad temper took ahold of him. Fists of rage hung at his side, his knuckles white. 'What the FUCK did you say?' he said quietly. Shinmaru gulped. 'Sonic Blaster. He's-he's back.' 'MOTHERFUCKER!' Alan roared, smashing his fist into a wall. At once the HTML supporting it crumbled, revealing the super-strong PHP beneath. The Hunter stood there for a moment, his fist embedded in the wall, his breath coming in angry gasps. Finally he turned, his face contorted with rage. 'How much?' he asked, wild anger in his eyes. Shinmaru liked this. An angry n00b Hunter, while more ruthless, was much more efficient. '1500 visits. Plus a few extra if you can bring him to me alive.' Alan snorted, his face briefly registering amusement before contorting once more into an angry snarl. 'You won't see him alive if I have anything to do with it.' -- Alan stalked the myOs, blasting n00bs out of his way as he went. As he walked, coming ever closer to Sonic Blaster's HOVEL, an enthusiastic AjehMan came up to him, babbling about some Indian actress until Alan turned his shotgun on him and told him to fuck off he knew what was good for him. Needless to say, he did. It took much negotiating of the seedier parts of myO till he found his destination, pausing for reflection as he stood outside Sonic Blaster's myO. Would the foul beast he was soon to see be an undead freak, or the same, green Sonic Blaster he had battled many a time before? Would it have an army or be by its lonesome? He smiled to himself. It didn't matter. The n00b fucker would be dead soon anyway. He reached for the doorknob but was frozen on the spot by a commanding British voice, his hand still outstretched. 'STOP!' Alan looked up to see Solo, cybergoth extraordinaire, walking towards him, a shining sword in his hand and a chainmail shirt barely covering his chest. His large, spiked boots echoed up and down the hallway as he came within spitting distance of the n00b Hunter, his mail glinting slightly in the dull light of the myO hallways. Alan looked the man up and down. 'What do you want, Mr Tremaine?' he asked his rival. Solo gentley pushed Alan's hand away from the doorknob with his blade. 'I want Blaster.' Alan smirked. 'He's mine Solo. I was paid to take him out. Find your own meat.' Solo's thick, British laugh echoed up and down the hallway. 'I was also though, old friend.' He smiled. 'And believe me, Adam has considerabley deeper funds then your 'Kingpin' Shinmaru.' Alan raised an eyebrow. It was going to come to a standoff. 'Really?' he asked, before shoulder barging the Brit onto the floor and pulling out his shotgun. He pointed it at the man, and laughed. 'Adam may have deeper funds, but he didn't account for me.' With the gun still pointed at Solo, he bent down and picked up the man's sword. 'Sorry about that old chap,' he said ironically as he picked it up. 'I'd love to stay and chat but I've got people to see, places to go...' Solo scowled as the n00b Hunter kicked the door in at the handle and disappeared inside.

[color=indigo][size=1][font=Arial]This idea is awesome.[/font][/size][/color] [quote][size=1][b]Bang, baby.[/b] 'You don't have to do this,' they tell me. 'What's stopping me?,' I ask. 'Your conscience.' I laugh. 'How do you know I have a conscience?' 'Everyone has a conscience.' I grin.'I sold mine.' They are aghast. 'For what?' 'A gun.' Their face pales. 'That's horrible,' they say. 'I know.' I pull the trigger.[/size][/quote]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]Despite what others may think, I haven't had many phenomanally (sp?) bad experiences in my life. I just don't think many of the things in my life can be considered bad, because I came out the otherside relatively sane. The worst experiences I can remember always concern pets, though. Like, when we found out our dog had been run over by counsel truck, heh, and they wouldn't admit to it. I cried so long when that happened heh. Also when we found out our pet cat had been run over by a semitrailor, and the counsel were refusing to clean up the mess.We had to drive past it every day for two weeks till it was washed away by rain, it was horrible... I don't think any of that compares to what some people have experienced though, so I don't like to get hung up on it, heh. Oh well.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]This is in the wrong forum, but eh. I suspect it'll be moved eventually anyway, lol. I don't think there's any definite way to write poetry, it's more of a personal thing. You just have to be able to convey your feelings in a form you feel is poetic. It doesn't even have to rhyme, either, but it's a personal choice whether you rhyme or not. I prefer rhyme in my poems, heh. There's lots of methods in which you can write them (haiku, sonnet etc etc), just find one that suits you. And don't try and force it, you can get some truely horrible poetry that way, lol.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]Because I'm a whining bastard I have my two biggest Christmas gifts already (a brand new iBook and a year's worth of web hosting), which leaves me wanting three things: A new Gameboy Advance SP and Pkemon Fire Red and Final Fantasy Tactics Advance. I'd have both already if my original Gameboy wasn't stolen more than a year ago. u.u[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[quote name='Siren']Mmmm...James beat me with his (Admin)Rod. Mmm Mmm good. Very fun chapter, Alan, haha, very fun...yes...though, I do have one tiny complaint. Why am I being portrayed as so damn evil?!? ~_^[/quote] [size=1][color=indigo][font=arial]Because it brings out your eyes. ^_~ Thanks muchly for all the comments, heh, it's appreciated. I'm almost up to the hy00j two part episodes that ended up being mini-epics, but before that there's this silliness... muaha.[/font][/color][/size] Shinmaru Strikes Back While some people may not admit it, Play It, land of the free, was ruled by two people, the ever-present Desbreko, and the slightly less powerful Shinmaru, otherwise known as the myOtaku Kingpin. The two had a good relationship, and Shinmaru looked up to Desbreko for guidance when times were rough. Except... Desbreko had a fetish. Some may call it an obsession, but it was most definitely a fetish. And this fetish involved his boot, and Shinmaru's nads. Needless to say, after more than a year working with the Lore Master, Shinmaru's testicles were in pretty bad shape, and when he went for a check up and found he was never having kids... he snapped. 'DESBREKO!' he roared, stamping over the Zelda floor rug that carpetted Desbreko's myO. 'We need to talk.' A muffled thump, then a string of curse words emitted from the backroom as Desbreko was snapped from his slumber and fell off the bed. Groaning he came out, his hair frizzled and not tied back, and his eyes red and bloodshot from reading too much Ranma 1/2 on his computer. 'Whadoyawan?' he mumbled, still asleep. Shinmaru smiled slightly. 'Revenge,' he said simpley. Desbreko's eyes widened. 'What?' the Lore Master was now completely awake, and curious. 'Revenge,' Shinmaru repeated. 'I want revenge, on you of course, for all the time's you've nad kicked me in the past.' Shinmaru's face and tone of voice were deadly serious, but Desbreko took no heed of it. Obviously the man was joking. 'Yeah, sure,' he laughed. 'Any time.' He was still laughing as he turned around and made ihs way back to the Backroom, obviously very amused at the thought of Shinmaru - THE Nad Biatch, rebelling. He stopped laughing when a modrod came flying through the air to snap him in the back of the head, immediately locking every thread Desbreko had ever made in Play It. Including the Zelda ones. Desbreko spun around and glared at Shinmaru, his eyes dangerously red. 'WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR??' he roared. Shinmaru wore an impish grin as he practically spat the words out. 'For revenge.' Desbreko growled. With all his Zelda posts locked , and, if Shinmaru could manage it with another attack, deleted, he was reverting to a beastial state. An evil state. He was becoming the n00b known as jcgoudy. 'HOW DARE YOU!' he howled, leaping at Shinmaru only to miss and completely shatter the well planned HTML on his myO introduction. He spun around again and lunged once more, but Shinmaru, with his hightened state of cosciousness, only laughed and sidestepped and jcgoudy smashed into the Sidebar. Bloodied and beaten the n00b form of jcgoudy spun around, almost dead by his own machinations. He lunged once more, but instead of sidestepping Shinmaru instead whacked him with the modrod again, and at once all of Desbreko's Zelda posts were obliterated. This made him revert. 'Nooooo!' he howled. 'How could you!' Shinmaru shrugged and left, leaving th Lore Master to cry into the rug... Weeks later, once Desbreko had recovered and unlocked EACH AND EVERY post, Shinmaru was called into the Mod Controls of Play It. Here he was confronted with not one, but FOUR Desbreko's, each a different colour. One was purple, one was green, one was red and one was blue. 'Like it?' each said in unison, waving a sword about. 'It's called the FourSword.' Shinmaru gulped. 'But we need to test it...'

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]I searched for any previous mention of this but only got a thread on the God-awful movie, lol. Anyway, this thread is about Brisbane band The Butterfly Effect. They're a kind of metal band, and have, I think, only two albums (and both are EPs, I'm pretty sure). I bought their self titled EP a few weeks back, and I'm enjoying it muchly. The song [i]Sweet and Low[/i] is my favourite on it so far, but they're all pretty decent. I've heard a few tracks off of their second album, too, and [i]One Second or Infinity[/i] (it might be insanity instead of infinity) nis my fave off it. So yeah... anyone else heard of them?[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial][spoiler*]Text here[/*spoiler] Without the *s. ^_^ Enjoy[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial][i]30th of April 2004: Scientists prove putting knives near your ears is the leading cause of snarling young women[/i] Ha, that took me so long for such lameness. [/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]0wn3d.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR] Rampage of the Siren The sound of Sciros and Sirens' battle echoed out over the entirety of OtakuBoards as the two fierce warriors once again tore apart a thread with their rivalry. This time it was Politics, before it had been Religion. Who knew what had started the rivalry? Who knew when it would end? Sciros let out a particularly meaty grunt as Siren's quote tags smashed him once more in the stomach, reeling on his feet for a moment and looking dazed. 'So do you give up Sciros?' Siren asked haughtily. 'Do you admit I'm right?' Sciros wavered for a moment, his legs like jelly and his resolve weakening. With a feat of strength he gathered up his power and presented a strong face to his opponent. 'I won't admit you're right. My opinion is mine, and can't be changed.' The warrior looked down, almost sadly. 'However, I lack both the will and and the strength to continue this any longer. I take my leave of you, Siren." The man turned his back and withdrew from the thread. Siren didn't like this. This shitted him off, greatly, actually. As Sciros withdrew he quickly scanned the Who's Online list for Zeta, but found nothing. With a playful smile Siren took off his Greek fisherman's cap and shirt and started forming a rebuttal. Whether or not Sciros wanted to debate, wasn't his problem. He needed entertainment, and he would have it at ANY cost. 'Sciros!' he roared. 'COME BACK HERE!' Sciros looked over his shoulder just as a large mass of quote tags and vitriol smashed into him, sending him flying back to land smash into a locked thread. He rubbed his head a bit, then attempted to rise to his feet, but yet another mass of quote tags smashed him down again. 'What the fuck do you want?' Sciros demanded, his body slightly smoking and blood trickling from his lip. 'I want to have some fun.' 'Well get it somewhere else!' Siren's eyes flared with evil anger. 'There is noone else. Fool.' Yet another blast of quote tags smashed into Sciros and the warrior howled in pain. Looking through slits of eyes, he saw yet another wad coming his way, and rolled out of the way just in time, feeling the heat of the explosion on his back. 'I CAN'T DO THIS! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!' he screamed, getting to shakey feet. 'I won't until you've admitted I'm right. And I have to be. Admit it.' Siren sent a mass of quote tags once more and Sciros went flying back. 'ADMIT IT! I have the credentials, the education, THE RESEARCH to prove you wrong!' At that moment Panda appeared toting a mod rod. 'Leave him alone Siren, this is over,' she warned. The modrod cackled with dangerous energy, but Siren was too caught up in the moment, too happy to be embracing his evil, rarely witnessed persona. 'No!' he roared, knocking the modrod out of Panda's hands. Panda's eyes opened wide in shock, not knowing what to do in such a situation. Siren noticed this, and pushed her down, sending another mass of quote tags and Sciros who was nearly at the entrance to Play It, where Siren's behaviour WOULD NOT be tolerated. 'No you don't,' he said softly, as the quote tags connected and rocked Otaku Longue with the force of the explosion. When the smoke cleared Sciros did not move, he just lay there, unconsious. 'Muaha.' 'Stop it Siren,' a voice said suddenly. Siren turned around to see James, the Omnipresent, standing behind him, his katana glinting evilly. 'You've nearly broken him. He's had enough.' 'He deserved it,' Siren said. 'And he deserves this!' A mass of quote tags once again flew from Siren's hand, and had it not been for James timely intervention, Sciros would've died. For at that moment, James did what he did not want to have to do. 'T3mp B4n!' he roared, striking Siren with his modrod. Siren looked at him, his eyes wide. The full weight of the situation suddenly bore down on him, and he looked down to see his legs slowly disappearing as balls of bright energy. 'Why??' James's face was grim. 'You forced me to, friend. We've seen what happens when you go out of control.' almost all of Siren's legs had disappeared. 'People get hurt, and broken. They never return.' Siren's abdomen was almost gone now. 'And I can't have that. When... when you've cooled off IM me.' The fisherman's hat disappeared, and so did the quote tags, mere moments before they made their deadly impact. James just stood in the scorched Otaku Lounge for a moment, before locking the thread it had all started in and helping Panda to her feet. Sometimes, his job sucked.

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]I used to have heaps of hobbies, but in the last year or so I've just lost interest in so many of them, for whatever reason. I used to paint WarHammer religiously, but now that's kinda 'eh', and I used to have a mission to collect every original series Goosebumps, but that died, too. The closest I have to a collection lately was my mission to get every KoRn album (mission accomplished, haha), and every Manson album (not so accomplished >>). Generally buying albums counts too, I guess.... As for activities, I adore web design and photography like my bastard children. Even though I'm only average at photography, lol. That didn't stop me [strike]wasting[/strike] investing $40 AU into a deviantART account, lol.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[QUOTE=Lore][size=1]Did you ever actually get that to [i]work?[/i] Because I sure didn't. My little brother wants it for Christmas. Heh. It's really sweet, but I'm a little worried....I hate seeing him disappointed, heh, so I hope he can get it to work right.[/size][/QUOTE] [COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]We got it working a few times, but we had parental help when it did. For all its fun-ness, a 6 year old with as little patience as I had wasn't meant to play it without adults around to help, lol.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]Haha, I love this film. Not all the laughs are as obvious as Holy Grail, but that's what makes is so damn good. Easily the best film by the 'Python crew, heheh. I love the bit where [spoiler]he accidentally made the hermit talk, and, when the hermit goes 'I haven't talked for 20 years and he made me!' (or something along those lines), and everyone goes 'It's a miracle!' despite the fact Brian fuxxored the guy's quest for elightenment. Or when they going along the line of 'prophets' (before the previous bit), and you have the one guy, in a real drab and boring voice, going 'Be nice to people. Pay your milkman' etc etc, when everyone else is speaking in tongues. It's brilliant, lol. [/spoiler] You've made me want to see it again now Shin. =P[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]My favourite board game ever was this wild thing called MouseTrap. Basically, you go around the board and (I think) assembling this huge contraption as you go. When it finally finished, and you set it off, the coolness was through the roof. Of the choices, though, Monopoly all the way. Even though both my Mum and brother are wildly competitive and can't take losing gracefully at all, it's still fun. Especially when I land all the big properties. ;) I remember playing my step sister and her friend long ago, when I wasn't even 10, and she pwned me, lol. She had every $500 note, and all the properties but five. We were young and dumb, though, so we just kept playing. XP[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][FONT=Arial][SIZE=1][B]Name[/B]: Trey laRogue [B]Callsign[/B]: Jester [B]Age[/B]: 28 [B]Appearance[/B]: At six foot five Trey isn't easily missed in a crowd, though it would be hard to miss him otherwise. Long thick blonde hair and blue eyes make it impossible to ignore his presence, as does a wide mouth that always seems to be flashing its pearly white grin. He has the frame of an Olympian god, which he showcases with a tight black singlet and loose black jeans. His muscular bulk is unique in that can shift from relaxed and soft to a solid fortress of muscle at the drop of a hat, making him invaluable in ambush situations, and a heart throb to any woman who crosses his path. For all his photogenic qualities, though, Trey's perfect body is marred by an arm of cold steel, a cybernetic replacement that had to be installed when he was 15 years old. It's a crude barren mechanism, with exposed wires and hydraulics, but it's potential for on the go modification is what keeps Trey from replacing it -- every other cybernetic arm he has found is completely hard wired. [B]Personality[/B]: Trey is a very happy-go-lucky person, who delights in playing with machinery and telling jokes to a responsive audience. This is a sharp contrast to the rest of his mercenary kind, who he sees as too serious and grim. He often makes light of this around them, and thusly finds himself in trouble more often than he should. He still doesn't learn, though. [B]Biography[/B]: Born into a wealthy family, Trey was arrogant and rude until his fifteenth birthday, representing the rich teenage stereotype to a tee. But after a horrible accident - a practical joke involving a remote mine gone wrong - his outlook on life changed. After having a brush so close to death he realised just how precious life is, and made it his mission to live life to the fullest. After his arm was installed (which he later pulled apart to make it what it is today), he toured the world, meeting thousands of reploids and humans he is proud to call friends, and partaking in hundreds of different occupations until, at 22 years of age, he settled on mechanic, quickly learning to love pulling things apart... and eventually putting them back together. However, he became bored of a life tied down in one spot, and decided to take his job to the road: becoming a mercenary who just happened to specialise in dismantling mechanics and robotics. [B]Affiliation[/B]: Mercenary [B]Primary Weapon[/B]: Laser, a big wrench when required [B] Secondary Weapon[/B]: Remote mines and grenades[/SIZE][/FONT][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]I think homosexuals are fine, lol. I have nothing against them, and I'm all for giving them the rights to marriage and adoption and what have you. Which is really strange as my Dad is a massive chauvenist who hates them with a passion, lol. I'm thinking most of the rubbish about homesexuality being evil roots from Christianity, as before Christianity it was acceptable for it to take place (not so much in women, though). In Ancient Greece/Rome/etc it was entirely acceptable, and noone would raise an eyebrow at all. But I'm not really an expert on the subject.... I agree with Baron about your parents. Forget about your parents, their disapproval won't change the fact, no matter how much they wish it would.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]I come out of force of habit. :P No, that's not it, lol. I just like the feel OB has over other forums. And if you make it so you can't see any of the anime sections it's even better, lol. I visit whenever I'm making a check on the forums I visit, which, depending on my relative boredness, can be anywhere from once a day to once every ten minutes...[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]I think I know what you're talking about, heh. Depending on what I'm seeing/hearing I can see any number of colours or shapes, though shapes only really come into the equation when talking about music. The shapes are never regular, and never actually related to the music at the time, they're just [i]there[/i]. It can be a tad disconcerting, but I haven't noticed it as much as I got older, heh. Karma has kicked my senses in the arse for freaking me out in my childhood, it seems, lol. As for the colours, I usually associate harder, rougher music with reds and grey, whilst softer music with rich blues (when I say soft, it's relative; think Foo Fighters). Hip Hop is distinctly yellow, and classical has a gold feel to it. Everything else springs to mind as a rich purple.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]My dream job is to be a (and here's the important part) [i]successful[/i] freelance web designer. It's hard to make it in the industry though (market saturation, blegh) unless you're truely L337, so I forsee a long hard slog for me. Failing that I'd probably fall back on the popular 'writer' option. It makes perfect sense; dream job failure = life as a bludger. My writiing skillz aint as good as they could be, though, so I've put all my eggs in the web design basket, lol.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

Rail Maximillion Brisbane, Australia He is a vigilante, a murderer, and, to some, an ally. He has the frame of an Olympian God, the burning eyes of a demon, and the cold precision of an android. He lives for one purpose, and one purpose only: To dismantle the Brisbane Underworld one person at a time. He is truely a man to be feared. Best Regards to the Devil He looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear, his hands shaking in terror. The cold steel of my pistol was pressed firmly between his eyes, and the man seemed to realize that this was it; he was going to die tonight, and there was little he could do to avert it. Didn't mean he was about to give up though. 'You don't know what you're doing!' he told me for the third time. 'You'll create large scale gang warfare if you do this! Hundreds will die!' My face remained impassive. 'Why don't you care? WHY?? You don't know what you're doing!' I raised an eyebrow. 'Are you done?' The man's eyes widened further. 'You-You don't care do you? You don't give a **** about what happens when I die, do you?' Still prostrate before me, he searched my face feverishly for a new excuse. Then he grinned, confident he had an arguement to stop me. 'Well, consider this then,' he said in a low sly voice. 'When you kill me you will be destroyed a thousand times over by my gang.' He paused for effect. 'Do you care now?' Silence. 'DO YOU?' I smiled oddly. 'No. No I don't.' His breath faltered as the truth hit him. He had been getting confident, thought that maybe he could convince me to spare him. But it had been nothing but a short-lived pipe dream, a fleeting hope that he would never have. A slow patch of wetness spread on his crotch as this fact played over and over in his mind relentlessly. This did not go unnoticed, and I spat on his upturned face, an ugly sneer gracing my features. 'You disgust me,' I said, my voice bitter. 'You and all you're drug trafficking kind. It is my desire to destroy each and everyone of you before my time on this earth is through.' I closed my eyes, and listened to his soft whimpering for a moment. 'I love impossible tasks don't you?' The man moaned softly and my finger tightened around the trigger, sending a bullet of hot lead through his skull. Don Violi's body collapsed to the ground, and I looked down on it for a moment, before leaving the secluded alley in which I had murdered Brisbane's greatest drug lord. 'Best regards to the devil.' That was fun to write, regardless whether I get in or not.

[QUOTE=DerelictDestiny][COLOR=DarkRed]Heroics at its finest. I find it rather interesting how you (Alan) don't always play a very main, or perhaps prominent role in the stories. Rather it follows you around.[/COLOR][/QUOTE] [COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]That's because it's more of a universe, not just the adventurers of one character, heh. Plus I feel damn embarassed every time I write one where Alan is featured heavily. >> The next one only has passing mention of my character, and is more in a comedy vain (containing the uncontainable AjehMan can do that to a story). It takes low blows at both Ajeh and James... lol[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR] AjehMan: Crime and Punishment AjehMan sat in his myOtaku on a huge, Indian actress-shaped blow up chair, scanning through the list of people on his myO list for people who had updated. It was quite near to the start of the day (internet time), so not many had yet, but there was still a few. Alan had updated his myOtaku with yet another portal to another site (something which truely scared AjehMan, despite his superpowers), Mimmi's myO shined cutesy and happiness like an infernal lighthouse and Heaven's Cloud's was pulsating with ill-concealed sarcasm and satire. That only left one person: The omnipresent James. AjehMan wasn't exactly... on good terms with James. After a slight run in involving firecrackers, an OBv7 layout and huge explosions, James had been a bit shitty with the spry young superhero. Ajeh had to be wary around he man, now, and always tried to read his posts and myO whenever he wasn't around. He hoped that would be one of those times... Rearranging everything, Ajeh left, and, due to the magic of the internet, arrived at James's myO in seconds. He gulped, and crossed his fingers, hoping that he wasn't there, then opened the door and stepped into the room... 'GODDAMIT,' he cursed, as his eyes took in the site of James, who was hastily editting his latest post because of a not-unoticed sly remark in cloricus's direction. James looked up and saw the mutant, and his eyes narrowed. 'You,' he said angrily, getting to his feet and striding in quick steps over to where AjehMan stood, frozen to the spot. James gripped the man by the neck, looked over his shoulder to make sure noone was watching, then pulled him in proper and slammed the door. For the next few hours, only the horrible groans of an injured superhero could be heard. Eventually he emerged, his eyes deep in their sockets and cradling his elbows. This didn't go unnoticed by Shinmaru as he strode past. 'Ajehman! What the fuck happened to you?' AjehMan looked at the Kingpin, decked out in a pimp suit Jesus would be envious of. 'He... he... he LECTURED ME ON MATRIX LORE.' Shinmaru gasped and stepped back. 'My... God... why?' 'Punishment for destroying the Paper Mario OB layout,' AjehMan said in a tortured voice. Shinmaru scowled. 'You what?'

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]This is where I wanted a character who wasn't total odd-ball or based on an obscure comic book character you'd never pick. XP So... this is the result, lol. Oh, and slugs get chicks all the time, Trust me. ;)[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR] Play It Invasion Desbreko looked out over Play It and smiled to himself. It was a civilised, intelligent place, made so by his continuing efforts to keep the n00bs out, and to tutor the ones in the way of posting that somehow did make it in. This land, this place which he so lovingly protected, was a haven of the intelligent, a place free of the corruption of Otaku Lounge and Anime Lounge, a place in which mighty warriors such as James and the arch-angel Semjaza Azazel sought refuge from the rest of OtakuBoards. Indeed, it was a utopia. Swinging his Master Sword in the air a few times, Desbreko stepped back from his ledge in the Moderator Controls and made his way down its mighty, gold-plated stairs, batting away a few loose pieces of spam that had littered down from a recent spam explosion in Anime Lounge. When he came to the large, iron plated door that would bring him amongst his peons, he stopped for a moment, putting the Master Sword back in its sheath, then stepped through. What he was confronted with was truly awful. Somehow, in the last few moments, a spammer n00b had flown through, smashing down Desbreko's carefully constructed barricades and allowing in hordes and hordes of Final Fantasy and anime n00bs, who were even now destroying Play It. 'HOW?' he demanded of noone in particular. As expected there was no answer, but a flying past of drivel caught his attention s it drifted before his eyes. Yasim. He should've known. At once the Master Sword had found it's way to his right hand and the hookshot to his left. He would have to find Yasim again and destroy him. The hordes swarmed around him, oblivious to his nigh-on-Godly presence, as he stalked the area, searching for the fiend Yasim. Desbreko had had experience with Yasim many moons ago, during a mighty n00b attack that took on the whole boards, and knew that Yasim was incredibly bitter at his banning, and had forever blamed Desbreko for it. Only now was the vile spammer getting his revenge... 'OOF!' Desbreko grunted as a small, ferocious n00b hit him in the stomach. He staggered for a moment, breathing deeply before stepping forward again, only to be knocked back again by yet another n00b. A loud peal of evil laughter swept over the area and Desbreko looked behind himself to see Yasim standing at the Moderator Controls, directing great streams of n00bs to completely encircle the Lore Master. Scowling, Desbreko raised the hookshot and attempted to fire for the wall behind Yasim, but was knocked down again by another n00b. 'You will never defeat me! Muahaha!' Desbreko let a silent tear drop as he realised he may have finally, after so long, lost control of the land he cherished so dear. Then a loud bang rocked his senses, and he was covered in the blood of an unfortunate n00b that had been leaping for his head. Desbreko looked up to see Alan, the n00b Hunter standing over him, his shotgun smoking from the recent shot. 'Go,' he said simply. Desbreko nodded and leapt to his feet again, raising the hookshot. No n00bs disturbed him as he slowly sted up his targets, but the loud bangs did as Alan worked tirelessly to allow Desbreko a clean shot. Then a pull of the trigger and.... Desbreko flew through the air, and landed with a thump beside Yasim, immediately discarding the hookshot and swinging his sword at the spammer's legs. Yasim, always slow, quickly collapsed, his legs severed from the knees down. But he was still an arm's lengths away from the controls that could destroy the forum.... His hand slowly raised and began to lower, as if in slow motion on the single red button that would perform that horrible act. 'Nooooo!' Desbreko cried, as the button depressed. He closed his eyes, dreading the worst. But nothing ever happened. Yasim didn't know the password required. There was no way he could destroy Play It. A slow, evil grin spread over Desbreko's face and he slowly walked over to Yasim's shocked and legless form... 'B4NN3ED!' rung out over the entirety of Play It, and a large yellow explosion emanataed from the Moderator Controls. When the smoke cleared Play It was itself once more, and Desbreko once again stood in the middle of his kingdom. 'All in a day's work, eh?' Alan said with a sly grin. Desbreko merely pulled his foot back and mouthed 'Nad kick'. 'Allrigh, allrigh, I'm leaving.'

[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][FONT=Arial]I love FarScape. ^_^ Too bad they play it at like, 11PM so I always miss it. What drew me to the show, initially, was the sense of humour it had about itself as well. It doesn't take itself too seriously, and it doesn't suffer for it. Granted, it has its serious moments, and its fair share of drama and action, but its not what makes the show. I mean, one episode was confined completely in John's head where he was acting out a Looney Tunes cartoon with his subconsious - who, incidentally, takes the form of his arch-nemisis. I doubt many other sci-fi shows would even attempt that, heh.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]