Dragon Warrior

[size=1]Zev and DeMeeko gave off the slight impression there was something amiss in the room. This group was untrustworthy, and the two soldiers were trained not to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, particularly a bunch of old men in robes plotting a revolution. Zev decided to take things into his own hands. "Nothing. I am Zev and this is..." Zev looked to DeMeeko for some help, who quickly picked up the slack. "DeMeeko." Everyone stared queerly at DeMeeko, who nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Everyone looked at each other around the room until Olwe's eyes rested on those of Gillenbo. Though his attention was not towards Zev and DeMeeko, his speech was directed to them. "I can only assume you are not of our land, as Gillenbo has stated. Please, enlighten us." "We are from a land far away," Zev said flatly. "We cannot say anymore." The old men nodded in understanding. "We see," Olwe said, fiddling with a quill on the tabletop. "You cannot trust everyone you meet. This is a fact. If you do, then you are a fool. But be careful who you make enemies with by trusting the wrong sides. We, the Protectors of Devon, do not trust anyone but each other, as you two seem to trust nobody but yourselves." Zev and DeMeeko looked to each other. "I do not trust him," Zev said of DeMeeko. DeMeeko nodded. "Yeah, same here. He snores awfully." Olwe stared queerly at DeMeeko for the second time in the past few minutes. "I think you're missing the point. Cast a shadow over a flower, and the vines will envelop you." Zev nodded, while DeMeeko gave a blank expression. "What?" Olwe sighed, realizing what spot he has been put in. "Forget it. You are primitive. However, possibly some use." Olwe's eyes glistened as he smiled towards the two soldiers. "You need not wear your robes, strangers. We are aware of the weaponry you carry. They are most certainly foreign to us. We have a powerful sense on these sort of things, which you will learn of later. Either way, it's distinct you have come far, therefore we can trust you more than those among us." Gillenbo stepped forward as Olwe seated himself again. "You see," Gillenbo began, "we, the Protectors of Devon, have been plotting a great mission to unravel the threads of GodBot, and restore the Old World back to the land. We cannot do it alone. But who can one trust in these times? We could always take ignorant travelers for a sacrifice, but where will that get us? But if we found someone unfamiliar with our situation from somewhere distant and strange, perhaps we could find a new way about things." Gillenbo smiled at them. "So we're your ignorant travelers," Zev said. "Not quite," Gillenbo replied. He then stepped towards a lever on the wall disguised as a torch and pulled it downward. A passage gradually opened in the root-laden walls and he looked back at the two. "Perhaps this is something we need to show you rather than tell."[/size]

[size=1]Things seemed calm amongst the patrons of the tavern. The locals gathered in what assumed to be their normal crowds, guzzling forms of alcohol through dirty glasses. The conversation, if understood, was fairly primitive but unthreatening, nevertheless. Zev and DeMeeko seated themselves at a table in the far right corner, an area that was uninhabited. The two couldn't make out why until a rumble could be heard from a chair nearby. A drunkard awoke from an intoxicated slumber and noticed for once in his life someone was seated in his presence. He smiled a toothless grin and stumbled towards them. "Strange nights here in Hogwheel," he said. DeMeeko stared strangely back while Zev kept a composed expression. The two could only imagine he was referring to this particular town. "You two aren't from Hogwheel." DeMeeko was about to speak, but Zev didn't trust what he'd say. "No, and that's all you'll know, old man." The drunk smiled as though this was a compliment. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone where you're from. I have bigger fish to fry. Speaking of which..." The man then attempted to snack on the free stale bread in the middle of Zev and DeMeeko's table. Green began to pour from it, and the two escaped soldiers decided it was best not to join. "What do you want of us?" DeMeeko asked. "You're not a prostitute, are you?" "I don't know what a prostate is, but can't a feller have some good company every once and again?" He began to chew more bread and spoke through mouthfuls. "Name's Gillenbo." DeMeeko smirked back. "I'm DeMeeko and--" "Not to be rude, old man," Zev interrupted, "but we do not want to draw attention, so if you would please..." The drunk laughed. "Draw attention? I'd say you do a pretty good job of that on your own! The moment you fellers sat down, everyone in this tavern never let their eyes leave you. Whether you like it or not, you've got attention." He waved his hand as to gesture Zev and DeMeeko closer. "Just between me and you fellers, this tavern isn't the best place to be stayin' now." "Where do you propose we go?" Zev inquired. "Woah, no need to use big fancy words on me," Gillenbo said, sitting back in his chair. Zev and DeMeeko looked confused. "Still, I know a place." He took another bite of moldy bread and laughed. Zev and DeMeeko were unsure of what they had just committed to.[/size]

[size=1]When the sun peered over the endless horizon the following morning, DeMeeko found it hard to sleep any longer. His night, like Zev's, was short due to an abundance of excitement and adrenaline from their escape rushing through their body. Not to mention they were trained under little sleep. A few hours sufficed. The two almost awoke in unison, stretching a bit to relieve their tired muscles and lightly patting their clothes for the remaining wet spots. DeMeeko was first to stand and stare at the shoreline. With a smile playfully painted across his face, he flashed a toothy grin in Zev's direction. "Look at it. Didn't think I'd ever see it like this." Zev remained quiet as he silently packed his things back into his bag. His face showed a lack of expression, however it also suggested a pattern of thoughts running through his mind. DeMeeko winked at him and shrugged his shoulder. "I mean, we've got such a view here! The water never looked so good." Zev paid the man no mind. Taking down the tent, he selected his own provisions from the equipment and settled them in his bag. He left DeMeeko his own. DeMeeko stared blankly at Zev with the same dumb smirk on his mug. "I can see we aren't goin' to be talkin' much." Zev strapped the bag to his back and finally awarded DeMeeko with a casual glance. "We better start moving. They may be out searching for us and see the ALW on the horizon." With that, Zev started to traverse down the beach toward the grassy hills shaded by palm trees. DeMeeko scrambled to shove his equipment into his bag and hurry after. "You spoke! That's got to be some kind of miracle! Do you think that'll happen often or is it just a one time thing?"[/size]

[size=1]How can I pass up a pirate-esque RPG? [indent][b]Name:[/b] Dapper Van Rare [b]Age:[/b] Twenty-Four [b]Personalty:[/b] Dapper is your average hero for hire. His selfish deeds fueled by the fame and gold are what he lives for, tending to try and take the spotlight of things. He can be handsome, witty, and charming, but to the more intelligent, he's rude and egotistical. Did I mention selfish? He's a ladies' man, in the sense he's a man who likes ladies. But he has his moments where he gets the girl or his schemes actually come through. [b]Apperance:[/b] I will certainly put up a picture by morning. I'm drawing it as we speak :] [b]Weapons:[/b] He carries advanced pistols crafted to look like old pirate flintlocks, however they shoot like cannons. He also has a classic cutlass at his side. He's very much for keeping the romanticized hero aura about him. [b]Information:[/b] As said before, Dapper Van Rare is a pirate with a code: live being a nobody or die being a somebody. Fame is what promises Dapper's happiness mostly, however he is one for shiney things such as money. His "heroic" exploits carry him with a reputation for being somewhat of a hero, but if anyone ever met him personally, they'd find he's not as pleasant as he seems and only tends to care for himself. Though he's a charming, handsome man who can wield a sword or shoot a gun with the best of them, he's certainly not the best of company. However, as of late, work has been a bit slow for someone hired to save damsels in distress. So, he finds himself hired into a pirate crew of the Black Swallow, and will soon get a fresh check of reality as he finds he can't always be looking out for himself. Perhaps being apart of such a crew will up his morals a bit and change him for the better. His story only begins now as a new recruit... [/size][/indent]

[size=1]Well, this story certainly has background to it. I can see a lot of thought has gone into the inner workings of the novel, since you obviously have things figured out. Throughout the chapters, more and more is revealed, but not enough to fully tell us what's going on. Names of characters and places and wars are being thrown out in all directions. You also develop characters well and have interesting personalities labeled to them, such as Andrew and Kale. The real problems with your story that I can see are simply spelling and grammatical errors. The spelling errors can most likely be chocked up to typos since they appear to be just that. Just proof-read a little before posting. The grammar errors weren't anything major either, but I noted a few that were reoccurring just for your sake. [quote]For fifteen crowns, what the innkeeper offered him was not surprising.[/quote] This is somewhat of an improper way of wording a sentence. I noticed in the story your narration tends to slip into the style of how someone would actually talk, which can be fine if that's what the story's intentions are. But I'm assuming you were going for a more serious approach, and therefore probably not attempting that. So to explain what I quoted above, a better way to phrase that would be, "What the innkeeper offered him for fifteen crowns was not surprising." A good way to avoid doing such a sentence in the future (albeit it's a hassel until you catch on) is to remove the end of the sentence from the beginning and see if the beginning sentence makes sense by itself. In this case... "For fifteen crowns." ... that does not make sense and is a fractured sentence. I know this rule doesn't always apply because a lot of sentences can have beginnings that can't break off like that, but if a sentence sounds funny, try it and it may help you more than you think. [quote]“And they’d be needing some swords?” Zalbazin sported a grin full of knives.[/quote] That's not an error. I just thought it was clever writing. :] [quote]... Andrew [b]would of had[/b] expected Altervista to create a more stable road...[/quote] I saw this error a few times throughout the story. It's where I bolded the text. Now I normally see people making the mistake of just putting "would of," which is improper too, but you put both "of" and "had." They don't go together in this case, but also wouldn't work by themselves. In this sentence, you'll want to say... [quote]... Andrew would [b]have[/b] expected Altervista to create a more stable road...[/quote] Never use "of" after would in cases like this. I know that's what it sounds like when you say it, but take a look at the abbreviated version: "Andrew would've." If you remove the apostrophe to make two words again, it makes "would have." So keep that in mind and if you're ever unsure, check if "would've" fits. Because no one has ever seen "would'f" before ;] [quote]He caught it and shook his [b]hair[/b], releasing his lightly braided dark blue [b]hair[/b].[/quote] [quote]Some were easily the size of a [b]standard spear[/b], but most were just the length of a [b]standard[/b] long sword, including Zabazin’s.[/quote] Now this is not so much an error as it is just something that loses a reader. Try to avoid using the same word twice in a sentence describing subjects and other important things. In the two examples I quoted above, you have "hair" and "standard." By reading those sentences, you'll hear that word more than once and it'll irk you a bit. A thesaurus can be a writer's best friend. I use it plenty and it's not something to be ashamed of. With a quick look through the book... [quote]He caught it and shook his [b]hair[/b], releasing his lightly braided dark blue [b]tresses[/b].[/quote] [quote]Some were easily the size of a [b]standard spear[/b], but most were just the length of a [b]conventional[/b] long sword, including Zabazin’s.[/quote] Makes the sentence a bit more fun, eh? Conventional means the same thing as standard, and tresses is a fancy name for braided hair, which goes right along with what you said about his hair being lightly braided. Now I'm not picking on you. I find criticism more helpful because it can better you, while positive feedback tends to just boost egos and doesn't improves you at all. However, a kind word can boost motivation as well, so I will say you have a knack for dialogue. I enjoyed reading what the characters had to say. On a final note, readers (especially on OB) tend to be frightened of large texts. You posted a prologue and two chapters, which made for a hefty read. In the future, for your sake, to pull in readers try posting in portions. The prologue would've been sufficient enough to draw people in, I'm sure. As I told you on AIM, I liked it. So don't rush it. Write it, and they will come.[/size]

[size=1]Hmm... what's this? Raiha and a few others will be wandering the Lost Woods? And my pirate thief is there? This could make for some good fun if we want ;] After all, at the moment my character is somewhat a villain, if you think of it in civilian perspective. Haha. Just throwing it out there.[/size]

[center][img]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/zelda/lukkavatar.jpg[/img][/center] [indent][size=1]Lukka and Lugg darted into the woods with Captain Lore's crew not far behind. Lugg plowed the path, thrashing through brush like a stampeding bull. He pulled back branches as he rushed through, breaking most of them. The ones that he did not manage to snap came flailing back to rendevous with Lukka's face. "Watch it, you big galoot!" the pirate captain shouted with a mouthful of leaves. "Sorry, Boss," Lugg said in his usual customary primitive timbre. Lukka opened his mouth to speak again, but was greeted in the jaw by a sapling whisking by like a catapult launch. He spat out small insects and foilage and angrily hallooed, "Lugg, stop this instant!" "Stop?" Lugg repeated innocently. "Stop!" "Okay." Lugg stopped. Lukka crashed into him and collapsed to the mossy forest floor. Looking up at his doltish lackey, Lukka felt words delicately fall out of his open mouth as he found his body also doing its own form of falling. The ground beneath Lugg and Lukka gave way and they dropped quickly down into dark abyss. Upon arrival to the scene, Captain Lore was just as confused by his enemy's sudden disappearance as the rest of his crew was. "Where in the fresh hell did they do?" the captain cried. "One of you better start talkin' or yer losin' yer balls tonight!" "We're just as lost as you, cap'n," muttered one of the pirates. Captain Lore raised a fist as though to slog the minion right in the cheekbone, but he lowered it just as quickly. He stared down a small hole on the edge of the trail. There was something strange about it. Turning to the crew, Lore began to bark orders like the ruthless captain he was. "When you ladies are done [i]kissin'[/i], there's treasure to be got back! So move it! Handsomely now! I want the small one alive!" The drop appeared to take forever because Lukka was growing bored before they finally landed on a soft surface below. Lukka would have been fine if Lugg hadn't landed on him, but the impact knocked him unconscious, blurring out most of the harrowing pang of ribs cracking and a collapsed lung. When Lukka finally jerked back awake, he found himself slung over Lugg's shoulder like a burlap sack. "What's the meaning of this, Lugg?" "You look awfully cute when yer sleepin', Boss," Lugg giggled. Lukka smacked the large dullard over the head with a weak fist and grumbled. "Put me down!" Lugg did so, however Lukka regretted it short after the sharp pain of his cracked ribs pulsed through his body upon percussion with the ground. Lugg lightly sat the treasure chest down with great care as Lukka cried out in pain in the backdrop. "Ohhh, my chest... I can't breathe..." Lugg began to assemble straps for the treasure chest so it'd be able to be carried securely on his back like a bag. Lukka continued to weep. "I taste blood..." "We must go now, Boss," Lugg said, hoisting the chest around his bulky form and anchoring it to his shoulders. Lukka pulled his head out of the mossy carpet of the ground. "You... hebetudinous ignoramus... oh, how I hate you." "I think I hear a voice, Boss." Lugg peered over into the darkness. Lukka's eyes followed his large minion's gaze until a small light could be seen. It glistened in the obscureness, possibly from a lantern of some sort. Lukka began to panic at the sight of a figure approaching, but was too hurt to make an attempt at an escape on his own, much less mouth words to warn Lugg. "We... must... leave... idiot..." "But, sir," Lugg argued, "he's just an old man." "He wants you... to think that... and then... next thing you know... bam! You're eating Deku nuts... through your orifice holes in your nose." The old man approached Lugg and smiled. His voice was soft, calm, and his features attributed many stories sewn into his history through his summers. "Haven't seen many folks down here." "We fell," Lugg replied. "Shut up!" Lukka screamed from his position in the mud. He clambered to his feet and stumbled over to Lugg and the old man. Upon tripping, he caught himself on Lugg's pants and used the garments to pull himself back up. "Shut up, you cretin. Don't say a word!" "And who are you, angry little man?" asked the old fellow. Through eyes barely open, the old man examined the tired and beaten Lukka. "I am the Dread Pirate Lukka and you shall fear me!" To say such a line with great emphasis took everything Lukka had left in him. He began to cough and moan, leaning on Lugg's arm for rest. "So I will," the old man said with a smirk. "Heeey," Lukka whined. "That's not fear. That's a smiiile." "Who are you?" Lugg asked. "Shut up, I said!" shouted Lukka. The old man smiled and waved a hand over Lukka's frail form. Suddenly, the monkey pirate felt much stronger. "Yeah... what Lugg said... who are you?" The old man smiled. "Come. Castletown is near."[/size][/indent]

[size=1]Geez, guys. I wasn't expecting such a response. I'm flattered, really :] I'll do my best to keep this one going right to the end. And as promised, here's chapter two![/size] [center][b]Chapter Two: Darren Probably Will Cry[/b][/center] [size=1]When we last left our awesome friends, they were waiting to find out who was approaching the scary door of the witch’s house. Jeremy shivered, Darren cried, Lrb checked his MySpace. It was all very upsetting. “No new comments? Not even a message? This site blows.” Lrb sat down and pouted. “Stop whining,” Jeremy said, accepting thirteen friend requests. “Just because you’re not popular.” “I am too!” Lrb shouted. “My mom said I was.” “Your mom added me last night,” Darren smirked. Jeremy and Darren then had a good laugh. Lrb cried. Hey, isn’t this called [i]Darren[/i] May Cry? WTF? “Look, Lrb,” Jeremy said, resting an arm on the shoulder of his weeping companion, “this is not a likeability contest in the end. It’s to see how many strangers you can add to make it look like you’re popular so maybe, by some [i]fat[/i] chance, in the far future, some slutty, STD-infested college skank will slob your knob in the bathroom next to the Physics department in some run-down community college in a small town no one has ever heard of a few miles off Seattle, Washington. So as you can see, Lrb, it’s not worth the trouble for a quickie.” Lrb nodded, smiled, and went on his way. Jeremy looked satisfied. “Bytheway, everyone who is reading this story, add me!” [center][SIZE="4"][URL="http://www.myspace.com/jeremyishotttt"]http://www.myspace.com/jeremyishotttt[/URL][/size][/center] “Guys, look!” Darren shouted pointing using his finger in the particular direction he wanted them to use their eyes and look. “I think whoever was going to open the door about five minutes ago is finally going to do it!” “About damn time,” Jeremy grumbled. “We’ve been delaying it for God knows how long.” “Shhh!” Darren hushed them. The door slowly crept open and out stepped a man of great height. He appeared very stern wearing an expressionless face on his… er… face. He then removed said face and underneath, you could see one of very similar qualities. The guy was very stern, let’s just say that. Then he spoke. “Knock, knock.” Darren, Lrb, and Jeremy all stared at each other. “What?” Lrb replied. “Knock, knock,” repeated the strange man. “Who’s there?” Jeremy answered. “Interrupting cow,” said the man. “Interrupting co-” “MOO!” shouted the man, who then proceeded to burst into laughter at his own joke. “I love that one. Get it? I interrupted you. ‘Cause I’m… haha… the cow… LOL!” “You’re startin’ to freak us out, mister,” Darren whimpered. “Sorry,” apologized the man. “I am Shinmaru, the local… umm… well, I’m actually not sure what my job is.” “Are you the butler?” Jeremy asked. The man shook his head. “Oh, no. I don’t work here.” “So what are you doing here then?” “I don’t know. I don’t even live here.” And with that, Shinmaru stepped past them and walked away. There was a silence. It was awkward. “I’m not sure what to make of this,” Darren said. Then they entered. Meanwhile, far off in Evil Land… “Why did I call it Evil Land?” Charles pondered out loud to himself. “I mean, am I [i]that[/i] lacking in creativity?” “Sir, she’s here,” said a rather disgusting servant. “Thank you, random servant I haven’t bothered to learn the name of and never will. You’ve done well.” “It’s Ikillion. But thank you, sir,” smiled the servant, who then sneezed out some rather disgusting snot onto the stone floor. Both he and Charles stared at it momentarily. “That was… what is that?” “I think it was an organ,” Ikillion cried. “It’s horribly grotesque. Guards! Kill this man!” “I think there’s blood in it,” Ikillion shouted, before being dragged off to be executed. “Now where was I?” Charles thought for a moment. “Ah yes, what color shall I paint my toenails today?” “There is no time for that, sir,” said a guard. “She is here to see you. Besides, you’ll paint your toenails tonight at the sleepover.” “Oh yes!” Charles said giddily. “I can’t wait for that. We’ll eat gallons of ice cream and watch The Notebook!” The guard stared at his master. “Yeeeeeaaahh… bring her in!” A tall figure stepped into the large room, donned in a long flowing cape accompanied by many tassels. I mean, this thing had a [i]lot[/i] of tassels. We’re talkin’ a cat would have a field day here. At one point, Charles even questioned it in his mind. She looked like a walking rug or some kind of large throw pillow. Nevertheless, Charles smiled and greeted her. “I’m glad you’re here.” “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped. “Okay.” “I can’t believe you’d dare call me after what happened.” “She was nothing, dear,” Charles said in a soft tone. “Honestly.” “Oh, she was?” the woman replied in a soft tone also. “What? I didn’t use a soft tone. I was yelling.” Oh, sorry. I’m getting confused. “Anyway, Charles, she was a little more than nothing for you to be cheating on me with her.” “Oh, come on, dear, no one ever [i]actually[/i] took those OB marriages for real. They were something to put in your signature, maybe laugh about in an IM.” “It meant something to be, you arrogant dick!” She then began to cry. Charles lightly—and cautiously—put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, honey. It was only a few private messages.” “I don’t think I can trust you anymore, Charles,” she said through sniffles. “You’re a big… doodyface.” “Doodyface?” “I’m too angry to come up with appropriate, mature insults.” “Look, dear, can’t we let bygones be bygones? They certainly can’t be hellogones, so what else could they be?” The woman shook her head at his stupidity. “I’m here for business, not for you and me. I’m done with you. After you broke my heart, I just couldn’t stand to see you.” “I noticed you stopped coming by the area.” “Well, yeah,” the woman said, sitting down on one of the numerous couches. “I mean, I couldn’t take it anymore. To see you in the threads, to see your name even in the Who’s Online section. It was just too much, Charles.” “I’m sorry I ever hurt you, Raiha.” The woman glanced up. “It’s so good to hear you say my name again.” She stood up from her seat and approached him. In Raiha’s mind there and then, she thought this could be where they finally forgave each other. In Charles’ mind, he thought this could be where they got it on hardcore. But they were both wrong. A man burst through the doors interrupting. “Guys, I think you should see this,” DeLarge said, out of breath. “Thanks, DeLarge,” Charles replied. “Wait, why aren’t you wearing pants?” Jeremy, Lrb, and Darren lurked about the large mansion. It was dark, scary, and smelt faintly of avocados. The witch most likely enjoyed a good guacamole. “Hello?” Darren decided to call out. Jeremy punched him in the face, and threw him into a chair, breaking both the chair and Darren’s poor little heart. “WTF, Jeremy?” “Sorry, man,” Jeremy said. “But when someone calls out ‘hello’ into a dark, spooky place, that’s when the black guy gets killed. Don’t you watch movies?” “But none of us are black,” Darren argued. “Or so you think,” Lrb said softly, shifting his eyes. “Halt, intruders!” came a voice from up the stairs. “Shit, I told you,” Jeremy said, punching Darren again. “Will you stop doing that?” “Yes, stop it,” came the voice again. “Besides, I already knew you were here, you dinks.” “But how?” Jeremy asked. “I’m a fuckin’ sorcerer. I can cast a spell that could wipe out Kansas City and you don’t think I can tell when a couple of kids are knockin’ back a few in my own living room?” Lrb suddenly hid his can of OBeer. Darren’s voice was cracky, but he spoke anyways. “Are you the witch?” “Oh, for the love of Adam’s Angels, I’m not a witch! Why does everyone think I’m a witch?” “But you just said-” “I know what I said,” snapped the voice. “I am a sorcerer, yes. But not a witch. A witch is a girl. I’m a flippin’ guy.” “Really?” Jeremy said surprised. “You do sound like a girl.” “I’m drunk.” “Oooh,” said Jeremy, Darren, and Lrb in unison. The body fitting to the voice finally came downstairs, but suddenly tripped on a step at the top and came crashing through the banister into a coffee table below in front of the three heroes. It was certainly apparent that the sorcerer was, in fact, drunk. Jeremy poked him with a piece of the staircase railing. “Is he dead?” Lrb asked. “He smells dead,” Darren replied. Suddenly, the body began to move and the sorcerer turned over on his back. “Behold, I am DW, the great and powerful and intoxicated sorcerer of Otakuvania. I am very famous.” “Oh yeah?” Lrb scoffed. “I’ve never heard of you.” “Ah,” DW smiled, “but you’ve heard of my work, I bet. I made the moon landing possible. I sank the Titanic. Not my proudest moment. Neither was making Sarah Jessica Parker more attractive.” “Really?” Darren said wide-eyed. “It doesn’t look like you did anything.” “Trust me, if you drink enough like I do, anyone looks good.” The three nodded. “Now help my drunk ass up.” They all grabbed hold of the sorcerer’s arms and sat him down in a chair. “Now what do you little spammers wants?” “Well…” Jeremy began. Meanwhile, with the- “Oh, c’mon!” Jeremy complained. “I didn’t even get to finish.” “Hey, hey,” Charles shouted, “I have to tell my half of the story too.” “Oh yeah, like you’re so friggin’ important.” “I’m the antagonist, you fresh-mouthed ballsack!” “You’re so vulgar!” “You’re so DEAD!” Shut up, both of you. Jeremy, we’ll get back to you in a second. It’s Charles’ turn. “Fine,” Jeremy said, crossing his arms. Ahem. Anyway… meanwhile back with the villains, we find Charles, Raiha, and a pantsless DeLarge huddled around a crystal ball. “When did we get one of these?” Charles asked. “Shut up and look!” Raiha shouted. They peered into the ball and saw Jeremy, Darren, and Lrb talking to DW. “Those little skanks,” Charles said angrily. “I can’t believe they went to him. Of all the people. That’s not fair! Not fair, I tell you!” “Oh, stop whining,” Raiha grumbled. “DW is a booze-hound now. He won’t get them anywhere.” Charles chuckled deviously. “Especially since we have you now, my dear.” “Maybe,” Raiha said. “If you really need my help. I don’t think I need to waste my time on such a simple job. You see if you can take care of this. Though, I think these idiots could outsmart you, you fool.” She then walked out, leaving Charles to mope. “Don’t you worry, honey! They won’t get far without this,” he shouted, holding a stuffed penguin named Lumiere. “Hehe, he’s so cute.” Back with the heroes… “… we need to find Charles,” Jeremy said. “Phew, it took, like, forever to say that line.” Shut up. “Well, I see,” DW said, tossing everyone a can of OBeer. “If you think you’re worthy of my sexy and drunken services, you will have to pass a little testicle.” “What?” “Test. I said test.” “Okay…” “You must defeat my three apprentices in the black arts.” Suddenly, three shadowy, ninja-looking figures materialized from the dark. “Meet Lunox, CrimsonKnight, and Neptune. They friggin’ ROCK!” And with that, Lunox, CrimsonKnight, and Neptune all unleashed their amazing powers using fire, wind, and lightning. The heroes pissed themselves. “Hey,” Jeremy yelled. “No we didn’t.” Hehe. “Hey, DW, what gives? Why do we have to defeat them?” “It’ll be fun,” DW said flatly. “Really?” Darren replied. “That’s it?” “Yeah.” There was a silence. Lrb stared blankly. “FUCK. LOL.” The three apprentices approached the heroes. Things were looking bleak, especially since Charles had a new companion on his side. Though our heroes don’t know that. They’re a tad preoccupied. So I’d say this is a good time for a cliffhanger. “No!” Jeremy cried. “Don’t leave us here to die!” “I’m a lover, not a fighter!” Lrb whimpered. “Where are my pants? :^D” a nude DeLarge asked. Darren covered his eyes. “Seriously, will someone give that man some clothes?” Will they defeat the apprentices? Will Charles be victorious? Where the frick are DeLarge’s clothes? Seriously. That’s… gross. Find out next time and… … … I’ve got nothin’.[/size]

[quote name='Stephanie']The cute one with the spiky blonde hair.[/QUOTE] [size=1]Are you suggesting Hebe isn't cute? Better watch out ;][/size]

[center][SIZE="3"][b]Escaped Soldier 2[/b][/SIZE][/center] [size=1][b]Name:[/b] DeMeeko [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Brief Bio:[/b] DeMeeko is considered out of his friggin' mind. Every hair-brained idea and sorry excuse for a scheme he concocts is just crazy enough to work. If getting himself out of a tight spot was like deducing crimes, he'd be the Sherlock Holmes of the operation. And with that, he also happens to get into trouble just as easily. It's a wonder how why he was chosen to be taken into Daphner Run. It's to be believed DeMeeko was a master at crime before Daphner Run. He can read people like a book, and even more so he can change the atmosphere by altering their emotions. He's a fairly skilled people person, but even DeMeeko cannot win them all. He's a gambler and always puts things on the line. This may include other people's lives, for he is fairly selfish. Deep down he may have a heart, but you'd have to dig deep. His egocentric ways are concealed by his charming personality, accompanied by witty remarks and quips. He's not a man short of charisma, nor is he easily one-upped. Still, he normally doesn't know when to give up or understand his place. And this often gets him in trouble. To get mixed up with DeMeeko means to have your head on the line. He's not so much dangerous himself as he is the guy to put you in danger. It's hoped that he may eventually change his ways, but if he keeps getting brain-washed in the project, he may be poisoned to remain the way he is for good. [b]Items/Weapons:[/b] DeMeeko enjoys the new guns created in Daphner Run, however he has always been partial to knives, perhaps due to a past obsession in his previous life. He considers them a favorite due to their quick, silent kills. He carries a variety of knives, but due to his immense training with the new weapons, he is far too used to firing guns to pass them up. He carries two handguns. A small bag around his shoulder carries extra ammo and small laser tools. A rifle is strapped to his back as well, though he rarely prefers to use it. He also has a deck of cards, due to his lure towards gambling. I'm going to whip up a sketch of DeMeeko tomorrow on my break at work and I'll try to scan it up shortly after I get home. If not, it'll be up later that night :] I'm very excited. This'll be a good one.[/size]

[center][img]http://i228.photobucket.com/albums/ee132/Runaway511/zelda/lukkavatar.jpg[/img][/center] [size=1]Lukka snooped from the foilage down towards the shoreline, solicitously licking his wind-burnt lips like a lion about to indulge on its prey. His heart felt as though it were pounding outside his shirt at the sight of the pirates, and a sudden rush of adrenaline enraptured his whole bulk. His eyes twinkled brightly in the moment of excitement. “Hey, Boss, what’s wrong with your eyes?" Lukka glanced over at his accomplice, who was heavy in build, but weightless in brains. It was like buying the mug, but not the beer. “Lugg, keep it quiet and we’ll get out of this alive,” Lukka muttered. “These guys won’t think twice about cutting us into tiny ribbons and making little bows.” Lugg thought about this exaggeration. “Those wouldn’t be very pretty bows.” “No, they wouldn’t be. Now remember my plan?” Lugg nodded like the primitive moron he was, and the two slowly crept from their hidden station amongst the bushes. They eased their way down to the shore, hopping behind rocks to conceal themselves. They continued this practice until they were close enough to one of the pirates. That’s when Lukka unsheathed a sword and placed the sharp of the blade to the pirate’s spine. The buccaneer immediately froze, not daring to turn his head to see who his captor was. Instead, he managed a small squeak that could be only heard by a mouse. Nevertheless, the captain of the pirates must’ve been a mouse in another life because seconds later, he was approaching the scene, sword drawn. “What is the meaning of this? Who are you?” Lukka smiled mischievously and bowed. “Ha ha! I, my friends, am the Dread Pirate Lukka! I know, I know, my name burns fear deep into your hearts. The very sight of me scours your emotions with intimidation. There is no surprise here. I am a notorious legend with a strong constipation.” The pirates looked undoubtedly confused by this statement, and eventually Lukka too began to question his own words. “Boss, you mean constitution,” Lugg corrected. “Remember your speech from earlier?” “I know my speech!” Lukka snapped quietly back at Lugg. After gaining composure, Lukka proceeded. “I am here to take out your forces and embezzle your funds.” The pirates burst into a fit of laughter. Even the one held at sword point had a small, yet skittish chuckle at Lukka’s expense. Lukka appeared irked and shifted weight from one foot to the other like a disoriented crab. “How do you propose to do that, Lucy?” the captain said behind laughs he attempted to stifle. Ignoring the obvious endeavor at insulting his name, Lukka replied with the forced confidence he had entered with. “I will single-handedly remove each of you until the treasure is attainable.” “That’s all well and good, Lucy,” the captain continued, “but where is your crew?” ”As I said, I will single-handedly do it myself. I am the most skilled swordsman to ever sail the seas and I will have no trouble defeating any of your men.” The captain rubbed his beard in thought, pulling out a various insects that nested within the hair. It was apparent he was highly amused at Lukka’s antics and was curious what was to become of it. “Who do ye want to fight?” Lukka gazed around the crew and noted most of them were able-bodied fighters. He began to think he was in over his head. Still, like a master poker player, he kept a straight face and played on with his hand. “Anyone who wants to face me, step forward.” He let his sword drop from the pirate’s neck, who in turn, finally got a good look at Lukka. He wasn’t as frightened as he was before. The captain peered at his crew in mock superiority. “You heard him. Go ahead. Any of you scallywags." “Yes,” Lukka agreed. “I could take any of you.” With that, a pirate stood up from his seat on a large piece of driftwood and cracked his neck. He was fairly large and well-built. Lukka gulped at the sight of him. “No, no, I can’t kill you. Look at those arms. You’re obviously an important asset to the crew. What if some heavy lifting needed to be done onboard the ship? Sit back down.” The pirate sat back down and Lukka scoped the crowd again. “Who else is willing to take on the Dread Pirate?” A pirate donned in barely any cloth at all stepped forward, swinging his swords quite dangerously. Lukka looked disgusted. “No way. I don’t fight people without clothes on. It’s gross. Sit back down.” Another pirate stood up and adjusted his glasses. He lifted a large blade, almost doubling the size of Lukka’s. Lukka smirked at the presentation. “Lucky for you, I don’t fight guys with glasses. It’s against my morals. Sit back down. Now, who else is out there?” This time, a pirate of only about three foot two stepped toward Lukka with a blood-thirsty glare. “What is this, the circus? No, no, I’m not in the mood for gymnastics practice.” Lukka turned to the captain. “This is insulting to the king of all pirates. How dare you attempt to sick such a weak crew of men on me. I am so utterly disgusted, yet I am going to show mercy and leave you all unharmed. I will take your treasure without fighting any of you. This will teach you, and you can think about what you have all done today.” The crew watched as Lukka and Lugg waltzed over to a treasure chest nestled in the sandy shore. Lukka gestured to Lugg, who accommodated Lukka’s motion by lifting the heavy chest onto his shoulder. “Now then, I hope your fate will be more fortunate in the future. And pray you do not run into the Dread Pirate Lukka ever again.” Lukka tipped his hat to the captain, who sat on a barrel of rum shaking his head in disbelief at the monkey pirate’s foolish efforts. Lukka and Lugg turned away, both with expressions portraying the phrase “Let’s get the hell out of here.” But as they started to walk up the shore, the captain called. “That was mighty amusing, boys. But I’ll be havin’ my treasure back now.” Lukka hesititated for a moment before replying in an intimidated tone, “Um, no.” The captain’s voice was far from entertained now. “Now be a good boy and bring it back, or I can’t promise I’ll let you go with a few broken limbs.” "Boss,” Lugg said quietly to Lukka, “I don’t think yer plan worked.” Lukka wanted to slap the big behemoth, but he was right. Lukka had counted on Captain Lore’s crew to be far more primitive than they were, and far less skilled at that. “What now, Boss?” Lugg asked. Lukka looked to Lugg, sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall. “Well, Lugg, first I think I will reluctantly shit myself. Then I’m up for suggestions on the matter.” ”Should we run?” “I’d second that.” And so, they did just that. Taking off at a sprint, the two ruffians shot into the woods, with Captain Lore’s crew hot on their rear. One thing Lore didn’t bet on was that Lukka was quick, and Lugg was fast as well, even with well over two hundred pounds in gold on his back. But Lukka made a few mistakes of his own. And they were soon about to catch him by the monkey tail.[/size]

[size=1]No, I understand. I'm the same way. I just get too many ideas every second of every day, I can't stay focused on one project without wanting to start another. That's why short stories can be such a relief, if pulled off correctly. But you definitely have the knack for it. :][/size]

[size=1]I'm astounded, Clurr. You have left this pirate speechless :] You have, in all regards, the right to be proud of this. I haven't enjoyed a serious OB story like this in a long while. The real majesty of the whole thing is the fact that the perspective of the story keeps changing throughout it. I couldn't figure out what the story was about until almost near the end, and that was the best part. I started off thinking she had sex with the guy, especially since some girls bleed on their first time. But then you said "corpse," so I assumed it was a murder or accident. Then when Nils came down the stairs, I was confused how the dead could be walking. I didn't think it'd take a paranormal/fantasy twist. And then when they mentioned vampires, I understood the reason you worded it "corpse." Very clever, and very deceiving. I love that. The style and writing of the story was fantastic too. Your wording, your expressions, your analogies left me content for more. [indent][i]"Nils appears on the staircase, his deer-in-the-headlights expression and pallid skin color probably mirroring me perfectly."[/i][/indent] I particularly liked this line. It was worded so perfectly and vivid that you could paint the picture with your mind. You have a definite talent and/or skill for weaving a very powerful and intriguing story, whether it's just a short segment of someone's life or an elaborated biography. You bring our attention in right from the start and keep it because you tease the reader. You give a little detail, but not enough so we keep guessing and wanting more. That's a very good skill for a writer, and I suggest you keep at it. I'd love to read more stuff like this in the future. I better stop, though, or I'll be giving you endless props for the next hour or so :P[/size]

[center][img]http://img178.imageshack.us/img178/1228/darrenmaycrybj0.jpg[/img][/center] Hello, everyone. It has been a while since I've written an OB story, but I thought I'd toss my efforts out there once more. The following is a story loosely based off the [b]Devil May Cry[/b] game series. And when I say [i]loosely,[/i] I mean VERY loosely. However, you may recognize plenty of the characters in it, as they are possibly some familiar friends of yours from across the 'Boards. Please do enjoy and throw some comments out there about what you think :] Thanks. [size=1][indent]Deep in the dark realms of the world, an evil sleeps. An evil so powerful, if awakened it could annihilate the entire existence of what we all know. Fortunately for us, that?s in some other dimension and those sorry bastards have to deal with it. Our story takes place in the magical, mysterious, and erotic world of Otakuvania. Many legends unravel within Otakuvania, such as the werewolf eating small girls in sexy red outfits on their way to their grandmother?s house. Or perhaps a demonic cookie of ginger running amuck, chanting evil incantations as he tortures peasants with his redundant catchphrase, ?You motha fuckahs can?t catch dis shit!? Or maybe you?re here to hear the sad, sad story of poor old Otakula, the local vampire. ?Okay, Mr. Otakula, you?re next.? Otakula stood up and cleared his throat nervously. ?Uh, yes, good evening, fwiends. Umm? well, I am [i]Count[/i] Otakula, not [i]mister.[/i] There is a difference. And, umm? I have a drinking problem.? ?Hello, Mr. Otakula,? replied the therapy group. ?Otakula,? began the therapy leader. ?Why don?t you tell us about your little ?cravings?, hm?? ?Well, alright.? Otakula cleared his throat again. ?Is it hot in here or is it just me? Well, umm? you see, I am what people call dead, or maybe even a vampire and-? ?Oh, no, no, Mr. Otakula,? the therapy leader interrupted. ?We don?t use words that hurt us here. ?Dead? and ?vampire? are hateful, hurtful things. Let?s try to avoid them.? ?You know what?s hurtful is you calling me, mister, you son of a bitch.? Otakula shifted in place for a moment, and fumbled for his words. ?Where was I? Oh yes? so, I like to kill people and drink their blood. You know? It?s what I do. I enjoy it. It tastes good.? ?He kills people and sucks their blood because it?s good,? the therapy leader repeated for everyone. ?I said ?drink? their blood, not ?suck.? This isn?t a pornography. Don?t make me out to be that guy.? ?So, tell us, Mr. Otakula, why do you find blood so yummy?? ?I never called it ?yummy,? either. You?re making me sound like a fruitcake. Do I look like a fruitbat to you? There?s a difference.? ?We?re all friends here, Mr. Otakula,? cooed the therapy leader. ?Would you like to hold the therapy teddy?? ?The therapy teddy is going right up your ass if you call me Mr. Otakula again, let me tell you.? ?I sense some anger coming from Mr. Otakula.? ?Oh, that?s it! RAWR!? ?OMG, MY EYES!? ?SATAN HAS BEEN FREED!? ?WHERE?S MY THIRD TESTICLE?!? Okay, perhaps we should leave Otakula?s story alone. Let us go to a different time and place where a much more interesting story unfolds; one filled with revenge, betrayal, carnies, and nobody has a third testicle. This is the story of Darren. [center][b]CHAPTER ONE: The Story Of Darren[/b][/center] ?Okay, so let?s see here,? Charles said, looking through the rulebook. ?Faldor and Evelyn enter the-? ?Aralyn,? Vicky interrupted. ?Huh? I?m sorry?? ?Aralyn. It?s Aralyn.? ?Oh, my mistake. Faldor and [i]Aralyn[/i] enter the dungeon equipped with the magic scrolls.? ?I cast Ultima on the monster,? Darren cooed. ?You? you, wait, what?? Charles looked confused. ?Darren, there is no monster. How could Faldor cast that on a monster that isn?t even there?? ?Didn?t you say the Sandlox were in the dungeon?? Darren argued. ?Well, yeah, but?? ?You did say that, Charles,? Vicky put in. Darren nodded. ?You said it before we left the town for the dungeon.? Charles put down the rulebook. ?Look, the townsperson told you the Sandlox nested there, but that doesn?t mean one is right at the goddamn entrance, alright?? ?Well, we?re just able to walk in?? Vicky said puzzled. ?Yeah, that seems pretty easy,? Darren smirked. ?Some dungeon.? Charles held his head. ?Oh my God, you guys? shut? up. You?re both barely past level five, you?re not going to be fighting giant levithans yet.? ?I cast Ultima on the Sandlox then,? Darren commanded. ?No, no you don?t,? Charles screamed. ?Faldor doesn?t know Ultima. For God sakes, that?s a spell for level fifty mages. You?re a hobbit thief. You?re not even capable of most spells.? ?Oh,? Darren frowned. ?Well, could I use the magic scroll from the townsperson to change myself into a level fifty elf mage?? Charles stared blankly. ?That? doesn?t even make sense!? ?Or maybe you could ask the mage in the dungeon to change you,? Vicky suggested. Darren nodded happily in agreement, but Charles looked moderately annoyed. ?Hello?!? Charles shouted. ?Have you two even been mentally present this whole time? Where in God?s green goodness did you get the idea that you could magically change class and level, much less race, in the middle of the god forsaken game?? ?Right here on this page from the rulebook,? Darren said, pointing to a paper. ?Darren, that?s a placemat from Pizza Hut.? ?I?m hungry,? Darren moaned. ?Will you stop it?? Charles said aggravated. ?I?m the Dungeon Master. Can we at least get through the first dungeon?? Vicky and Darren reluctantly agreed by nodding and the game continued. Charles appeared to be back in high spirits once his position of DM commenced once more. ?Okay, so Faldor and whatever her name is are in the dungeon. Suddenly, a Sandlox appears!? ?ULTIMA!? Darren shouted. ?FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS ANIME, ULTIMA!? ?YOU DON?T FUCKING HAVE ULTIMA!? Charles screamed. ?YOU IGNORANT LITTLE SACK OF DICKS! There is no way in HELL a sixty-pound HOBBIT could manage a magical black incantation capable of annihilating an entire mountain range! You stupid little sack wrinkle!? Darren?s lip quivered. ?Well, I just thought?? ?You don?t think, Darren,? Charles said. ?You?re a big? flubbernugget!? Vicky dropped her hamburger in astonishment (yes, she had a hamburger). Darren?s mouth dropped wide open. DeLarge dropped his pants (he was watching from the corner). Charles suddenly realized what he had done, but couldn?t manage the words to fix it. ?I can?t believe you just called me that.? ?Darren, I?? Darren interrupted Charles. ?I?ve heard enough.? He burst into tears and ran off. ?I?m going to my room! Where?s My Little Pony?? After Darren?s departure, there was an awkward silence. Then Charles decided to stand up and scoot out his chair. ?Well, it?s been fun. I better hit the trail.? And with that, he took off in a sprint to his submarine parked outside and he flew away. Yes. He flew. ?I wish I had more lines in this,? Vicky pouted. Meanwhile, somewhere far from the Otaku Theatre where the game of D&D was being played, a local member of Otakuvania named Jeremy was enjoying a warm, summer day. ?Boy, it?s a great day,? Jeremy said cheerfully. He was approached by his friend Lrb, who had a rather disturbing smile on his face. ?Say, Lrb,? Jeremy said, greeting his friend with a handshake, ?what?s up with that disturbing smile on your face?? ?Today?s the day,? Lrb purred. ?Did you just purr?? ?Today?s the day I?m going to ask Anomaly to marry me.? ?Lrb, she doesn?t even know you exist,? Jeremy stated. ?That?ll soon change when I give her this ring.? And with that, Lrb pulled out a large, gold ring. ?Lrb!? Jeremy squeeled as though he was Anomaly himself. ?That must have cost a fortune! But where did you get it?? ?Well, uh?? Meanwhile, far, far away? ?Do you have it?? Frodo asked. ?No, I don?t!? Sam replied. ?Shit, shit, shit! Fuck!? ?Stop swearing, Frodo. You?re hurting my prudish ears.? ?Shut the fuck up, Sam! I?m trying to think.? Sam shut up and Frodo began to pace while pondering the problem at hand. ?Okay, okay, so we were in that strip club, and? ugh, what was that slut?s name?? ?Uh, Frodo,? Sam began, ?I was thinking?? Frodo didn?t seem to be listening. ?? then we had some of that hardcore shit from the Shire? that fucked me up?? ?? maybe after this whole Mt. Doom thing is over,? Sam continued, ?you and I could? you know?? ?Oh, for fuck sake, Sam! It?s not going to happen!? ?Oh, okay, okay,? Sam said, backing off. ?It?s cool, I?m cool.? There was a pause of silence while Frodo went back to thinking. ?I watch you sleep.? ?What?? ?Nothing.? ?Okay, Lrb, what?s the plan?? Jeremy asked. ?I have it all figured out,? Lrb said, excited. ?I?m going to walk up to her place and present the ring.? Jeremy waited for a moment, then realized that Lrb was finished. ?That?s it? That?s the whole plan?? ?Yes.? ?Wow, and I thought Taylor Hicks sucked, but that plan is awful. C?mon, Lrb, you can do better than that.? Lrb thought for a moment, then looked to Jeremy. ?Do I? do I touch her boob?? ?Lrb, you haven?t been with a lot of girls, have you?? ?I took my cousin to prom.? Before Jeremy could answer, Darren came running up to them crying. ?Darren,? Jeremy said astounded. ?How?d you get here so fast? Only a few seconds ago you were hundreds of miles away in the Otaku Theatre. Now you?re here in the Otaku Lounge with us.? Darren thought about this, but could not think of an explanation. Therefore, that part of the story was skipped. ?What happened to you, Darren?? ?Did somebody make you cry?? Lrb asked. Betweens sniffles and weeps, Darren managed to say one word. ?Rosebud.? ?Rosebud?? Jeremy repeated. ?Sorry,? Darren apologized. ?I meant, Charles.? ?Charles,? Jeremy and Lrb said in unison. Then they stared at each other. It was awkward. ?What?d Charles do?? Jeremy asked. ?He? he?? Darren could hardly manage to say it. ?He called me a? flubbernugget.? The whole town gasped in horror. ?Whore?? DeLarge said, popping out of a barrel. ?No,? Jeremy replied. ?He said [i]horror[/i], not whore.? ?Oh. Okay then.? And so, DeLarge disappeared in the barrel once again and turned on the song ?Stayin? Alive.? ?Is that a disco ball in there?? Lrb questioned the barrel. ?I can?t believe he?d call you that, Darren,? Jeremy said. ?And he made you cry!? ?Well, Darren may cry,? Lrb said. There was a moment of silence while everyone realized it was, in fact, the title of the story. ?Clever,? Jeremy noted. He then turned his attention back to Darren. ?You must do something about it, Darren.? ?Do I? do I touch his boob?? Jeremy slapped his own face. ?We?re going to need to enlist the services of the Witch of the Boards. She?ll tell us where to find Charles.? ?I?m sure we could just ask someone where he lives,? Lrb suggested. ?He?s a pretty well-known member and-? ?To the Witch!? Jeremy shouted and off they went. As they were walking, Lrb beamed at the ring he?d give to his love. He then pocketed it and looked straight ahead, which happened to be Jeremy?s butt. ?Take a picture, it?ll last longer,? Jeremy glared. ?Way ahead of you,? Lrb said with a Polaroid in hand. They had arrived at the Witch?s house, which was conveniently just down the street from where they were standing. The place was very well kept and you wouldn?t be able to tell a witch occupied the residence. ?This place smells like old lady feet,? Darren whined. Suddenly, a flash of lightning lit the sky like a strobe light and the three found themselves frightened. ?Should we try the door?? Lrb asked, clinging to Jeremy. ?Probably,? Jeremy answered. ?And stop hugging my bladder. I just had a lot of mac and cheese.? ?What?s that have to do with your bladder?? ?You don?t want to know.? Jeremy crept towards the door and slowly knocked. The sound of footsteps could be heard from the other side, and suddenly the door swung open. The three gaped in horror. ?This would be a great place for a cliffhanger,? Lrb said. ?Good idea,? Jeremy agreed. The three waited and waited. ?Any time now,? Darren said. They continued to wait. ?Oh, c?mon,? Jeremy shouted. Fine.[/size][/indent]

[quote name='Retribution'][font=Arial]DW, you hipster.[/font][/QUOTE] [size=1]Me a hipster? Look at you! Drinkin' it up all manly-like with your soda. I'm jealous :] And thank you, Roxie.[/size]

[quote name='Lrb'][SIZE="1"][COLOR="DimGray"]DW, you sexy beast. I want to see a [b]coloured[/b] picture of you. Without any fancy editing! I demand it! :twitch:[/COLOR][/SIZE][/QUOTE] [size=1]You could always go to my MySpace and look at my pictures, dummy :P You're on my friends list there. But because I adore you, I shall comply to your request :] [img]http://img172.imageshack.us/img172/1111/gavinincolorog9.jpg[/img][/size]

[size=1][img]http://img140.imageshack.us/img140/8501/piratezelda2bw9.jpg[/img] [b]Name:[/b] Dread Pirate Lukka [[URL="http://img236.imageshack.us/img236/2205/piratezeldaaw1.jpg"]Click[/URL]] [b]Race:[/b] Hylian [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Brief character history[/b]: Short-tempered, egotistical, and a bit of a spontaneous kind of guy, Dread Pirate Lukka has made a name for himself in the plunderin' business by being loaded with hair-brained schemes and fast-paced raids that work on the whim of a miracle. He's courageous, but foolish and blindly charges into confrontation. His pride and reputation are held highest above all. A crew would have to be stark-raving mad to sail under Lukka's colors, but he did once have such a group. However, during a farfetched plot to pillage a great fortune from the Thieves' Loom, Lukka fell victim to the enchanting and unholy powers of the sorceress whom lay in wake there. The leader of the Thieves' Loom despised Lukka like most pirates and grew disgusted with how the "Dread Pirate" dared to rank himself amongst them. He ordered the sorceress to curse Lukka. And so, a hex was placed upon the captain, turning him into a monkey, a cheap joke made at his expense derived from the Thieves' Loom leader referring to Lukka's antics as that of a monkey. Dread Pirate Lukka and his crew were released unharmed, but robbed of their every possession. Lukka wished to sail on and reclaim dignity once the spell was lifted, but his crew had other plans. They considered the Thieves' Loom leader's words and decided they were disgracing themselves by sailing under Lukka, especially when he was a monkey. They called for mutiny and Lukka was cast off in a dingy to drift out in sea. Lukka managed to find his way back home. He returned to his family's old house, where he found his sister, an amateur in enchantments. She managed to lift the hex part way, but due to her lack in experience, Lukka remained with a monkey's tail. Nevertheless, he sails on, raiding and pillaging, keeping to his dignity and honor. He wishes to defend his good name. Fortunately for him, no one knows his name to make it any different. SIDE NOTE: Sorry I don't have the drawing capabilities of these other guys. I mean, you've got Talon over there looking like he works for Nintendo's character design team, and all I conjur up is some Wind Waker reject. If I manage to actually draw in normal Zelda style, I shall be sure to toss it up :][/size]

[size=1]For you, Stephen, old pal, anything ;D [b]Your OtakuBoards Username:[/b] Dragon Warrior [b]Nickname:[/b] DW [b]Age:[/b] Twenty-one. [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Why are you better than every other member on this forum?:[/b] A common speculation and belief amongst the citizens of the 'Boards is that veteran members are the best, or "oldies," if you will. I, for one, have been on OtakuBoards since the dawn of time (or at least the dawn of the forum), and as time passed, I become all-powerful... in my head. The majority of the 'Boards actually doesn't know I exist, so I'm not so sure I'm better than every other member on the forum anymore. But I am the only member who tried to single-handedly defeat James and take over the forum and rule the internet, so that's got to count for something. In that sense, I am damn awesome ;D Hardest. Signup. Ever. Haha.[/SIZE]

[size=1]Yeah, I'm not going to try and defend myself in this argument. She's about right. I'd cry. Ooohh, my pride.. :][/size]

[quote name='MistressRoxie'][color=#9933ff] And DW: I love the hair!! I remember a while back you told me you were going to cut it in that style, and I didn't get to see the "after" pictures. You look great!! I love the style on you. =)[/color][/QUOTE] [size=1]Well, thank you. Unfortunately it's a pain to straighten my hair every day, so it's rarely straight like those pictures. However, for some unknown reason, my bangs [i]are[/i] straight, so like in my bottom-left picture, my bangs are always straight and the rest is curly. It's nuts. I normally wear a hat. Hah.[/size]

[quote name='Raiha'][COLOR="DarkOrchid"][FONT="Times New Roman"]WHITE MAGE WHITE MAGE WHITE MAGE!!! GUESS WHAT'S FUN WHITE MAGE! .....sorry, too much sugar there. Yes, with the notable exception of the boots, this costume is 100% hand sewn, put together, stained with blood and tears, etc.[/FONT][/COLOR][/QUOTE] [size=1]I'm impressed, my friend :] You told me you were making this, and it turned out great. I hope you put it to good use. But despite your request, I'm afraid I cannot make a Black Mage outfit so you can beat the crap out of me. :P[/size]

[size=1]I am fairly surprised I have not posted in this thread. I am unbelievably photogenic... in the least conceited way possible :^D Does that make sense? Anyway, I'll toss a few on here for fun :] Just so people can say "Where's the black mage hat? :[" I don't actually wear one >: O[/size] [center][img]http://img362.imageshack.us/img362/5912/gavin1mf8.jpg[/img][img]http://img362.imageshack.us/img362/2221/gavin2rn5.jpg[/img] [img]http://img372.imageshack.us/img372/69/gavin4nu9.jpg[/img][img]http://img440.imageshack.us/img440/157/gavin3gu6.jpg[/img][/center]

[center][img]http://img68.imageshack.us/img68/7862/bannerie8.jpg[/img] [size=1][b]Quick Note: This Comic Has Foul Language and Violence. Some Other Adult Stuff Too, But I'm Too Lazy To Waste My Time Saying What They Are. Cool? Cool.[/b][/center] Hello fellow Otakulites :] Dragon Warrior here with a new adventure for you... or an old adventure, if you will. Some of you may have read it, but [b]When Luck Shoots You Down[/b] was a story I posted here on OB in the Anthology previously. It's a humorous story following the life of a man named Kensley who has horrible luck and gets involved with mobs, gangsters, and assassins without any intention. Or any clue, for that matter. I chose to stop writing the story, but now have picked it up again as a graphic novel. I will make the first three chapters of the story posted on OB as books for the graphic novels, and continue from there. It'll take some time, but I will post each book here on OB in this thread. I regret to inform you all that Book One is not completed yet, but is in production and will be soon. However, here's a teaser for you...[/size] [CENTER][URL="http://img178.imageshack.us/img178/7016/luckbook1coverbj6.jpg"]Book One's Cover[/URL][/CENTER] [size=1]I also don't intend to leave you all high and dry by posting this thread with nothing more than a picture. So I'm posting below several sketches I made while developing the looks of some of the characters, the majority being from Book One. This is my first time doing a graphic novel and I'm trying to make it look semi-decent here, but I cannot vouch for my skills in drawing or coloring in Photoshop. This graphic novel is more or less a test of my skills at doing it and a way of practicing and improving said skills. If you have any questions about the graphic novel, please do ask. That or feedback on the art and everything would be great. I'd love to hear about it from people like you. It'll motivate me to make this thing spectacular. So, please, feel free to reply and I'll try to finish Book One soon. In the meantime, click the links below for the sketches, and the very bottom link to view the written story version of [b]When Luck Shoots You Down[/b] (Chapters 1-3). Thank you :][/size] [center][IMG]http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/6904/whenluckshootsyoudowngt2.jpg[/IMG] [b]Sketches of Kensley D'Agostino[/b] [URL="http://img503.imageshack.us/img503/93/kensley1bv0.jpg"]Random Kensleys[/URL] [URL="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/3368/kensley2qh2.jpg"]Kensley Chewing?[/URL] [URL="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/8052/kensley3nm6.jpg"]More Random Kensleys[/URL] [URL="http://img147.imageshack.us/img147/5262/kensley4au7.jpg"]A Draft Of Kens Saying A Line From The Comic[/URL] [URL="http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/4189/kensley5uf7.jpg"]Kensley As A Badass[/URL] [b]Sketches Of Assorted Characters[/b] [URL="http://img154.imageshack.us/img154/8256/bruteln0.jpg"]Random Brute[/URL] [URL="http://img154.imageshack.us/img154/9410/rigbyzp9.jpg"]Reggie "Rigby" Summers[/URL] [URL="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/5554/naomitx8.jpg"]A Fairly Early Sketch of Naomi[/URL] [URL="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/5624/reizopy5.jpg"]Thirteen Berettas Leader, Reizo[/URL] [URL="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/5807/sanjang4.jpg"]Thirteen Berettas Member, Sanja[/URL] [URL="http://img154.imageshack.us/img154/2160/synthlg1.jpg"]Synth[/URL] [URL="http://img237.imageshack.us/img237/1047/archmt8.jpg"]Arch Banner[/URL] [b]Random Other Stuff[/b] [URL="http://img509.imageshack.us/img509/1329/layoutfo9.jpg"]A Quickie Sketch of Book One's First Page Layout[/URL] [URL="http://img55.imageshack.us/img55/8813/llamafacezi0.jpg"]Llama-Face! You know.. I don't know either...[/URL] [SIZE="4"][URL="http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=58881"]VIEW THE ACTUAL STORY[/URL][/size][/center]

[size=1]I'm a self-conscious guy in real life as it is. Or it's mere modesty. I don't know. Still, I don't exactly excel at school (more or less due to pure laziness and that good ol' fashion procrastination) and I'm not the most [b]handsome[/b] fellow (that's me in my banner), but I've always appreciated compliments I get my way. I would choose beauty, honestly, because in this day and age, it seems everyone is about looks now and personality/skills is slowly depleting. If, when speaking of smarts, we're talking about abilities and creativity as well, then I might be a little more interested in being smart. But according to actual psychology, intelligence and creativity are not the same and cannot be measured together. Only to a certain point can IQ affect creativity. I'm getting too technical :[[ So I'll say I'd like to be [b]hott[/b] please. Haha.[/size]

[quote name='Zen'][b][u]DRAGON WARRIOR![/b][/u][/size][/QUOTE] [size=1]Thanks, Affleck :P It's good to know at least someone is thinking of me. However, I have to honestly say I miss when [b]artists and writers and roleplayers[/b] got the recognition they deserved. We're all dying breeds it seems and as so of you have pointed out, we're not exactly as active in the arts forums as Time Square on New Years. Back when OB first started (Yeah, I'm [i]that old[/i], like a few of you), writing and roleplaying was pretty primitive. Posts in an RPG could look like this... [indent]ryu saw the monster in the woods. but before he Could attak, somethjng came out of nowhere! lol your turn. make sure ryu doesnt diie. i have an idea for what happens after the monster.[/indent] Yeah, it was pretty basic and the posts would certainly be considered spam in this day and age, but the simplicity of it all was astounding. I remember I was excited to see new posts in RPGs. I was very much eager to play and participate. The RPGs weren't about who has the best title graphic or most words in their posts. The plots were simple, but the storylines progressed as characters developed and ideas flowed through our combinations of contributions. I hate to say it, but I felt like I enjoyed roleplaying back then rather than now. I find it hard to keep myself interested. Plus, in writing purposes, no one wants to reply to other people's works. So feedback is rarely given to stories or any art, for that matter. I miss the old days when art was a large part of the Otaku world. What became of that?[/size]