Chaos

Hey, Noryko, would you recommend Mercenaries? It looked good, but I'm a bit iffy on it. I like the "blow crap up" military genre, and I was wondering if it was good enough to spend the fifty bucks on it. On topic, I have a few games I'm playing right now. Metal Gear Solid 3 - Also on my 4th time through. But I have the Moss Camo. Cyke, it rocks. Worth the time getting it. Free stamina during the daytime. Also looking for the Kerotan frogs [17 so far], and I have everything else except the EZ Gun and the Stealth Camo. I love the Zombie paint. Let's assimilate life from soldiers. :D Dragon Ball Z Budokai 3 - This is the first game that actually does the series good justice. While some things make me mad [a lack of DUs for some characters, for example], the gameplay is significantly better than the last two installments of the series. The fighting styles are more varied, with different set-ups, and the ability to do a one-hit kill with Vegita or Kakarot makes it worthwhile, just to humble some lesser foe. ^_~ Prince of Persia: Warrior Within - This game is just plain fun. I've beaten it seven times over, five times with the real ending and twice with the alternate ending [spoiler][noooo, come back Kaileena. ;(][/spoiler], and it's a visually gratifying game. Just running around and looking at stuff is fun. Not to mention the combat you get into makes most hack 'n slash games look like they came from the Atari. Those are my new ones, but I still tool around with my older ones. [San Andreas disc = scratched = no play. =/] [color=#4B0082]Added spoiler tags. - [i]Desbreko[/i][/color] [size=1]Oh, come on, I didn't even describe anything about it. :P Honestly, my bad. Didn't even think about that. >_>[/size]

Oh, come on, Ed. Who doesn't like contorted spines and damaged retinas as a result from harsh, varying shades of red? Surprisingly, I'm not going to say Dreamcast was my biggest disappointment. I saw failure on that already. SEGA was and somewhat still is in a bit of a slump, and they tried too hard to put out the Dreamcast early. They figured it'd be better to shove it on the market with little hype and six months before the first of the next-generation consoles. It just did not fit at the time it came out. My biggest disappointment would have to be XBOX. The system is great, don't get me wrong, and the graphics are by far the best in the world outside of a major motion picture, but Microsoft just went so wrong with so many things. First of all, the size. That's just a giant "duh". A pile of bricks the size of an XBOX probably weighs less. Same thing with the controller, although the S-controller was a huge improvement. XBOX Live makes me mad. Here Sony is, offering free first- and third-party online play, and XBOX makes you do a monthly or yearly subscription? Sure, there are some great titles, but most can and were ported to the PS2. And the DVD adapter is a poor idea, as well. I'd rather have a weak DVD player installed on my console rather than buy an activator that plugs in the damn controller port. Another is the GameCube. Same with XBOX with the fact that there are some great titles on the GCN, but it lacks the variety that Sony and Microsoft offer. The average gamer these days is in his or her teens, and most teens don't want to play Pikmin all day. They want to blow **** up. Granted, there are some rather "explodey" games for GameCube, but with the HALO games, the GTA series, Metal Gear Solid... Eh, I don't know. Maybe I just look things in too harsh of a light.

Heh, Cyke, four items is enough for anybody. "Hey, be careful with that. You might put an eye out. *snicker*" "...Just for that, I'll castrate you first."

Whee. Useless video game quotes; "We must pass our torch and let our children read our messy and sad history by its light." -Solid Snake That one is from the Japanese version of Metal Gear Solid 2, at the end. It basically means what it says, that all things come full-circle. No matter what we do with our lives, it will be noted, and we pass on both the good and the bad, whether we want to or not. "Loyalty to the 'end'." -The Boss From Metal Gear Solid 3, though I have heard of it before. It means be true to yourself. 'End' is not the completetion of something, or dying, it is to yourself. You have to face whatever comes your way, no matter what, and stay strong on your path. It just really strikes me whenever I think hard on it. "Building the future and keeping the past alive are one in the same thing." -Solid Snake Yet again, the idea that everything comes full-circle, and that fate is awaiting us. We can only hope to better ourselves by understanding this, and preparing for when it is our time. History always repeats itself. It is up to us and our children to decide how to look at it. I have more, but I have to go right now. In either case, interesting topic.

Lone toddler crying in a shopping mall. Wouldn't help, I'm sorry to say. I could walk past and not think another moment on it. I hate little kids, and their crying hurts my ears. Sad as it is, I think I'd be able to just keep on past. Hell, knowing me, I'd tell him to stop with the damn noise. *shrug* First person at the scene of a car accident. Call for help. I've been in enough incidents with cars and I know just how dangerous they can be. I'd either use my cell, or if by some unholy miracle I don't have it on me, I took a few first aid and survivalist training courses when I was younger. As long as there wasn't any immediate danger, I'd most likely go off to find a phone and report the accident. Just depends on where the accident is at, since most backwoods roads don't have payphones. x.x; Person drowning. Give a shout, first of all, so that anyone around will try and send for help, then probably jump on out to be a dashing hero. Why not, I say. I can swim pretty well, even fully clothed [I know because I hopped a neighbor's fence one time and didn't look first, among other things], so I'd be pretty confident I could at least hold the person up while the paramedics came about. Obviously upset person running down the street. Turn the other way on this one. I see some lunatic/raving person running full speed in my direction, I don't want any part of it. Either the person's crazy, on drugs, or being chased by someone/thing. Crazies are just annoying, so I'd avoid them anyway. People on drugs rarely use any form of thought [which explains a lot of my friends. XD], and when someone hauls *** away from something, you don't exactly want to stop and chat about it. Injured animal. I'm probably the one that injured it. >_>; Eh, depends on the animal. If it weighs three times or more than I do [i.e., bear], I'm not going within fifty feet of it. If it's a domesticated animal, I might try something. Except cats. I'll let them die in agony. Cats and hamsters. They can both rot in hell. P.S. The only reality show worth watching is Drawn Together. All else just sucks.

[QUOTE=ssjSolarPrinces][COLOR=GREEN]Whaaa! :bawl: No one from my state. Well, I live in the US, the very southern US, New Orleans, Louisiana to be exact. Of course, right now I'm at a university in the northern part of the state, and what a very boring town Ruston is. There isn't really much to do up here; I guess that's what I get for coming from a big city to a small town to go to college. Oh, well, I can't wait until I go back home for Mardi Gras though :flasher: [/COLOR][/QUOTE] Finally, some Cresent City love here. Ruston? My brother was up there. Don't know where he's at now. Moves around so much for National Guard training. Oh, come on. There's more to Naw'leans than Mardi Gras. Going to the Quarter can be a trip of a lifetime if you go to the right places. I'm stuck in Metairie right now, almost on the Jefferson Parish line. And I can't get anywhere. I go to Riverdale [and it sucks. We can't even pull off a winning football season], and everyone I know is...well, not here. -_-; But, come on, let's have some love for the number one murder capital of the U.S. [spoiler]Blanco sucks.[/spoiler] P.S. After 43 years they finally completed West Napoleon down by Severn. Hu-friggin-zah, it took them long enough.

[b]Name:[/b] Arano Karakkaze [b]Age:[/b] 31 [b]Nickname:[/b] Other than ?Sir? from subordinates, nothing. [b]Height:[/b] 6? 5? [b]Weight:[/b] 253 pounds [b]Appearance:[/b] As described earlier, he is taller than most around him, well-cut, and somewhat handsome, if you can look past the scowl and battle scars. He is thickly built, and fairly intimidating to those under his command when he gets to shouting. Attachment. [b]Biography/History:[/b] Born to a Saiya-jin mother that died during childbirth, and fathered by Paragas, Arano holds relations to Burori and Gaul as a half-brother, and Turles? cousin through his mother. Growing up in the rougher version of the Saiya-jin society, he learned to look past the errors of the past and forged on ahead with life. He was selected early on as a prime warrior, born with a thick head full of fire and rage, and a power level of 950. As a toddler, he was sent out to several hostile planets, and always returned quickly, having eliminated his targets with unnerving ease. Whenever settlers would relocate whatever it was to the conquered planets, they?d notice spots where the ground itself was burnt away, and the surrounding area for miles on end were bleached white, as if by an intense heat. Since there, there has always been a suspicion about him, that he was more than he seemed. For fourteen years out of his life, people made claims of this and that, about one legend or another. That is, until Burori was born. Arano was almost forgotten when the news that the Legendary Super Saiya-jin was born. His only saving grace that kept him at all in the military was the incredible deeds he had done in the past and his actions during the repelling of Furiza. Like others, he had charged into battle when Bardock called upon his fellow Saiya-jins, but he was also the one that organized the attack parties that not only rescued the Prince, but also weeded out large amounts of Furiza?s forces on Vegetasei. For this, he was giving a high position within the Defense Department, and eventually worked his way to become the Head of the Defense Council, a Leading General, and was a chairman of the National Guard. In the meantime of his job, too, he also continued to work regularly, either conquering planets or being a hired hand for races trying to defend their planet. He has many friends in the military, and is extremely well known throughout the planet as a man of influence for the Royal Family. All in all, Arano is a man that says what he means and means what he says. A somewhat regular past as a child and a deep-seeded apathy for what he could not change, he is the strong, serious type, with an iron-will and thoughtful mind. A brilliant tactician and wonderful commander, his troops look up to him in the highest regard. But sometimes, people cannot help but think he is hiding something? [b]Signature Attacks:[/b] [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/Blaze.JPG]Blaze[/url] A powerful yet compact orb of a napalm ki, generated through unknown means. Normally, ki is explosive, yet this attack literally harnesses fire and, upon detonation, releases a tide of flames in a bright explosion, much like a fuel air bomb or napalm bomb; the fire ?poofs? out over a large area very quickly in a heated blast. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/Hayoken.gif]Hayoken[/url] The Hayoken is a very diverse technique. Focusing energy within the hands when pulled behind the back, with hands opposite each other, fingers of one hand on the other?s palm, a small orb is formed. The ball of ki swells quickly as more energy is fed into it, often stopping at the size of a basketball or something relative in size. From there, the attack can be launched two ways; the first is a sphere, with a dramatic trail of energy following close behind. The hands are brought forward, kept just like they were behind the back. Arano snaps his hands to the side, to join underneath the orb, side-to-side, where the ball is fired somewhat like a rocket from the palms. The other way is a beam, which when brought in front of the body, the two hands spread out, thumbs overlapping so that the tip of each thumb rests in the crease of the opposite thumb. The orb expels its energy in a tide [[I]a la[/I] the Big Bang Kamehameha] that does considerable damage. Highly explosive results come from either method of launching. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/NuclearFusion3.JPG]Nuclear Fusion[/url] Starting off as a very small orb the size of a marble with pure energy crackling around the exterior, it grows quickly, absorbing the ki that bounds around it. When powered up, it can either be thrown or launched from an open palm, and it is very quick and powerful, despite the lack of charge time, as it splits the pure energy apart instead of detonating. When this very volatile ki ball explodes, it reacts much like a hydrogen bomb does. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/RagingComet.gif]Raging Comet[/url] The Raging Comet is without a doubt Arano?s strongest attack. This technique is very powerful, able to destroy planets with ease. Rather than use his own ki to fuel the power of the blast, however, he sets off very tiny explosions within the sphere itself, and that energy is trapped within, which explains why the orb lurches in size when focusing ki. With one or both hands held over his head, palms facing the sky and fingers narrowly spread, he must spend at least a minute or two concentrating. Therein lies the flaw, other than it takes time to power up; he must work very hard to only localize the explosion. If he were to force too much ki to detonate within, the whole Raging Comet would explode before ready, wasting time, energy, and doing severe damage to Arano. Because of the design and method of powering up the Raging Comet, it is not one big explosion, but actually a tactical strike that has an unfathomably strong shockwave that can send tons of planetary crust miles away, even into space if enough power is contained within. [b]Weapons:[/b] N/A [b]Power Level:[/b] 72,000 Yes, I understand I went over the limit I set, and there is a specific reason for that. When the attacks do begin, there will need to be someone to brunt the forces, and I figured we?ll need an edge once some real enemies show up. Besides, I won?t be gaining that much power right off the bat, whereas everyone else will catch up easily. Plus I can do what I want since I made the darn thing. ^_~

I felt it all change. Memories and reality blended, distorting beyond all recognition to reform into something similar as I had lived it. Time leapt forward and turned back and returned all at the same time. I grew stronger and smarter in an instant. The universe around me buckled under great strain, but once more returned to a steady flow. And, just at the end, I saw a huge dragon, mammoth to anything I had ever seen before, and the Prince, hair wild and fur encircling his body. -- ?Today is a day of victory for all of the Saiya-jin race. Today is liberation from a fear we once were ignorant to. Today is a new beginning for our entire race.? The King spoke boldly, even over the roaring crowd of every single Saiya-jin on Vegetasei. His words served as a formal record of our deeds only thirteen hours ago. My armor was still torn to shreds; large slashes and cuts littered my sculpted form. Dirt saturated my hair, my wounds, my clothes, and I had sweat over every inch of my being. My tail waved, hung loosely, as I was tired enough not to concentrate on wrapping it around my waist. And I wore all of it like a medal personally handed to me by King Vegeta. It took us a whole ten hours to finish clearing out Furiza?s forces. Most of us had regressed from our transformations shortly after warding off the fiend himself, but there were still many alien creatures that followed him to deal with. Our kind had never before found this type of unique goal, so our job was easier than expected. It still took ten whole hours. ?We begin anew as a race. There will be sweeping reforms to society, but the basic structure will remain the same. It is obvious now that even the weakest of Saiya-jins are exceptional and can accomplish more than ever imagined. Bardock, from a simple background, has risen to a level of power equal to most of the Royal Guard, and, in doing so, has been a prime example to support these changes. And it was he that informed the entire world of the threat ahead, and it was he who rallied support in favor of our complete dominance. We gather here in respect of each other as warriors. Men, women, children, all of you! All of you are Saiya-jins! All of you are legends! All of you...? He made a gesture to the endless crowd, his open hand spreading over the gathering slowly, to inspire a genuine feeling of personalization. ?Are true warriors.? -- Vegita rocketed forward, fist emerged; his harsh scream sounded throughout the stadium as Nuri ducked under his swing, bringing her knee up into his awaiting palm, the move blocked flawlessly as if it had been rehearsed. The Prince shoved his left arm downward and sent his foe sprawling. She hit the sand hard, flat on her stomach. She barely made the movement to try to sit up before Vegita?s foot found a nook between her shoulder blades. Pressed deeper into the sand, blood snorted from her lips and nose, Nuri passed out, and the crowd erupted into cheers for the Prince. The grown man pumped his right fist into the air, and replied with a vicious roar of his own. -- Sitting at a terminal, typing away into the far recesses of the information banks, a Saiya-jin sat, intent on his project. His hair was wild, in an almost orderly way, in the sense that his curving spikes all pointed downwards and the crown of his head did not have any imperfections. He would be recognized by this alone, regardless of the First Class rank armor he wore; the black chest plate was polished to an impeccable finish, and the beige shoulder and waist guards were not to be outdone themselves, while his gauntlets and boots were slightly scuffed and showed signs of recent combat. Over his legs was a pair of black pants, loose, very comfortable, and just as durable. Below the descending spikes was a calm face, handsome in appearance, with no signifying scars or burns. The scouter fixated on his left ear and the blue lens over his corresponding eye were new, fresh off the assembly line and shone with a sparkle in the soft light of the observatory. Under the armor, however, retold the tale of the unblemished warrior. Deeply refined and perfectly cut muscles were interrupted by large, gouging scars, and light burn marks that slightly charred his tanned skin shade or two deeper. His tail, also, had a slight hitch about two-fifths the way through, from many times of being yanked or grabbed in the fatal error of assuming he still held a Saiya-jin?s greatest weakness, was lazily hung around his thick waist in the common way most warriors of his race did. He would be recognized as a hero among his people, a great champion as well as teacher. He was the head of the Defense Council, a Leading General, and infamous fighter worthy of a king?s spoil. However, he did not let this affect is already sizable - yet manageable - ego. He knew his place in society, and for that, he was a better man. His name was Arano, and he would be the first to understand the new threat Vegetasei was to fall under. -- The rocket pod landed with a solid smash against the thick pad outside of Port Fifty-Two. After the inertia caught up with the dirtied white shell, and the landing pad stopped bouncing, the door opened slowly, lurching from years of stationary lock. Out stepped a young man, no more than eighteen, with a jumble of hair and a gleam in his eye. Two men slowly approached, smirks plastered all over their faces. One was a veteran warrior, a hero to the people, and a squad commander of the best unit in the known galaxy. He has similar size, look, and shape as the young man. The other, however, was taller, thicker. He was wearing an armor of a First Class, similar to Arano, without the combat pants. Instead, he favored a stretchable pair of shorts, elastic in nature and very tough. They ran to about three inches above his knees, and formed around powerful muscles. As mentioned, he was thicker than the other two; his build aimed more at big, dense muscle. He would be noticed, even without the tide of onyx hair that cascaded to below his knees, just for his structure. The young man turned to see the pair approach him. He was dressed in an odd manner of clothing, an orange shirt with torn, yellow pants that looked about two sizes too big, and boots that appeared to have been tossed about in a blender. ?So, the prodigal son returns...and a lot stronger than someone would have guessed.? ?It?s good to finally see you, Raditz. I was beginning to wonder if I would make it here before you died of old age.? ?So I take it the three-eyed one finally submitted?? ?Not really. It just took me a while to get him in a position where he couldn?t stop a bolt of energy from tearing his body apart.? ?Well, my son... I am glad you have returned. You missed an important part of our race?s development, but that should make it all the easier for you to adapt.? ?Yes, father.? ?Well, Kakarot, I suppose we should get you debriefed, then...? -- ?Are you sure about this?? King Vegeta asked, looking over the papers I had given him. ?Positive, my lord. At this rate, they will land on Vegetasei in two months,? I said, my voice low enough so that only he and not his personal entourage could hear. ?Maybe three, if they change course to avoid the main star of the Gemti system?s gravitational field completely.? ?Hmm,? was the only thing the King said. ?My lord, if the stories are true,? I whispered, gravely. ?Then we are looking at an army of beings that are almost impossible to destroy; they regenerate, can mold their bodies like a gel, and can withstand incredulous amounts of heat.? ?What do you suggest, then, Arano?? the King said, still walking through his personal garden. ?I want full control of the National Army and joint control of the Royal Guard, my lord, and then I will sleep easier.? King Vegeta looked at me for a brief second, as if he were about to bargain with me about that request, but it must have dawned upon him that he would be bargaining his race away if he did so. ?I will talk with the Prince later on about this. You know as well as I do he will not like losing control in either branch.? ?My lord,? I said loudly enough to be heard by those around me, and stopped short of my step. I placed my left arm over my chest and bowed in salute, before taking off into the air quickly to the Defense Agency Headquarters. -- ?So, Turles, what do you think about Yanoliak?? ?To be honest, sir, I don?t think it would serve for much of a recon post, not even to say for a training camp.? In the Planetary Conquest Division Agency, there is a room; large enough to fit several banquet halls in, of pure, modern wonders. Interactive maps, data banks, transmission centers, supercomputers, command centers, everything an efficient conqueror could want in a control room. In front of a three-dimensional map stood two figures, one only a few inches over six feet. He wore the common First Class armor, and was thickly built. He was Turles, Arano?s cousin, and looked similar to him, with the exception that he was darker skinned, was not as tall, and his hair stuck out in all directions. He stared at the pink-and-orange planet with a wicked smile on his face, thinking in disgust of how pathetic it was. Barely larger than half of Vegetasei, it held a weaker gravitational field and had a very diverse climate. It?s only advantages were that it held a vast multitude of environments, a rich atmosphere, and ample sources for nourishments. These pluses were the only saving graces, and the other figure, a gargantuan beast of a man, weighed them in better respect than its negatives. ?No, I think it will do just fine,? said the figure in a deep voice that seethed with power. Standing an amazing seven foot five, with a mind-blowing exceptional figure of impossibly and godly toned muscles stood a Saiya-jin like no other. He wore no shirt, in favor of free movement and to intimidate foes, but he kept it around his waist with a gold belt to hold his garments in place. His pants were a thick material of alien origin, and were a remarkably pure white. He stood on golden boots, with red rubies embedded in the shins of the metal. Around his wrists shined similarly colored bands, and around his neck hung a marvelous medallion that was glorified in simplistic beauty. This was the Legendary Super Saiya-jin, Burori, and he held the esteemed position of Commander of Planetary Conquest. And he was also Arano?s half-brother. ?Contact the Prince. Tell him we have found a ripe planet for training our divisions if he would honor us with the order to conquer.? -- Vegita sat in his tub, a literal pool of heated, churning water, relaxing after his daily training. He led a boring life. He slept in a bed the size of most rooms in a normal house, a four post with silk canopy with enough down feathers to make up an entire species of birds. His room was floored, walled, and tiled with black and white marble. Gold trimmed the corners and creases, and every furnishing was rich oaken wood. His room took up an entire floor of the royal palace, with a bathroom making up for half of that. Beautiful, exotic flowers sprung from running fountains that were placed in the four corners. Pure ivory walls held crystal mirrors with artful golden scroll trimming. This was separated from the bedroom with twenty-foot high doors of the richest maple wood ever to think to have existed. His duties as the primary leader of the armed forces were thin, as most orders were handed to subordinates due to the fact that he was always training. Which is why he was surprised when two messengers were announced by the Royal Guards outside his room. -- The footsteps sounded lightly down the corridor, echoing gently from wall to wall while dispersing into the distance. The Saiya-jin warrior walked with a mild tone about his motions, but also made it clear that he would not be taken lightly on any matter. He wore the usual First Class armor, but other than that, he was far from ordinary. His black combat suit was form fitting, but the sleeves stopped short of the upper arm, not even reaching past the biceps, and also dipped at the neck. Almost disproportionately, the suit ran down to his feet to barely conceal thick muscles and strong bones. Over the fighting leotard on hands and feet were white gloves and boots, the new cutting-edge form of armor that was recently developed just a couple of years ago. He was tall, but not so much as to tower over those around him; just enough to be noticeable. He was tanned lightly, and well built while staying in a compact frame. His hair was disheveled, pointed in curved, upward spikes that were only a medium length, but a rich black color. The most outlandish item on him, however, was the bloodstained bandana that held his hair up even higher than normal, a gift from his father. His name was Orin, and he was one of the leading commanders of the National Army. He made a name for himself in several single-handed conquests of planets with Class Two and One races. He had also been marked as an astonishing fighter, and had even protected the National Guard headquarters during a raid of space pirates alone. Yet for all of his deeds, the mention of his name and the knowledge of his heritage was enough to earn him a place in the history banks. He was the third son of Bardock, and the most likely to become the best fighter out of the three. He approached the last door of the hall, on the sixtieth floor of the Defense Council Headquarters, and it opened automatically with a decompressed swish of air. ?Ah, Orin, I?m glad you made it so quickly.? ?Of course, sir,? Orin said, making a quick yet relaxed salute. ?Enough of the formalities, Orin. We?ve known each other long enough to be past the militarist code, especially in my damn office,? Arano said, a faint growl reaching the back of his throat. ?Now hurry up and get in here. There?s a lot to tell you.? Orin smirked slightly, and walked into the Leading General?s personal office. It was large, taking up a quarter of the floor. The only thing above was the command post for the Defense Department. It showed telltale signs that it belonged to someone of significant importance. The floor was pure white marble, the large oaken desk set in the back in front of the twenty-foot windows with mechanical blinds. The room was quiet, and in the far right corner was a large bed, meant for when nights of business ran long, or when the Defense Department was on alert. Some fifteen feet away, against the east-side wall, was a fireplace that sported a marble mantelpiece with gold trimmings engraved to form ancient scrolls describing fighting techniques. On the west side of the entire room was a miniature training area, with simple weights and freely floating targets, and a small jacuzzi tub. ?Orin, I will get right to the point, because you know how much I hate bullshitting around. Vegetasei is faced with a very large problem. We are mere weeks away from a full-scale invasion,? Arano began. His friend snapped his head up slightly, staring with hard eyes and a thoughtful look on his face. ?As strange as it may sound, this is something we are nowhere near prepared for. Our enemies aren?t exactly warriors. They are more insect-like beasts?yet they don?t fit in any specific class of animal. They can regenerate lost limbs or holes within minutes; they can survive the vacuum of space? The heat of planetary reentry does little but mar their skin?s pebble texture, and, worst yet, they can use ki. ?I suppose the best news is that the majority of the swarm is mindless. They are controlled by more humanoid versions of themselves?but those are even more dangerous. They can heal even faster and can shape and mold their bodies. We are on the lip of a very hard war.? ??How the Hell are we supposed to deal with this?? ?That?s exactly why I called you here. This is a tremendous step ahead of our race?s path on destiny. One we might not fully make. The advantage here that we have is sheer power. They have millions of millions of their drones, but they all have the power level of a Saibaman on average. We might not have a tide of people ready to swoop over entire solar systems?but we do have the power to blow them out of the sky. ?I want you to keep this under your cap, Orin. This knowledge must not reach the public until we are ready to tell the population. But I do want you to prepare the National Army and Guard. Drill them until they bleed from their eyes. I want them so tired they won?t want to move for hours on end. I?m talking about eighteen hours a day until you hear further notice from me. Restrict off-base privileges, too. We need our warriors to focus. Every man, woman, and child we have enlisted must be at their peak to train. This is something far worse than we could have imagined.? -- In dark solitude he sat, a single light burning down, ineffectively penetrating the curtain of velvet darkness. The Saiya-jin youth sat on a simple stool, energy bonds pulsing quietly, with his head bowed. His hair was tied back and two micro transmitters taped at his temple. He was dressed in a simple armor, dark blue with no shoulder pads and only two waist guards along the side of his legs. He wore a dirtied black jumpsuit underneath, cut off at the elbow and knees. He wore no scouter, and his tail hung limply to be subject to any breeze. ?So, Kakarot, I suppose we have much to discuss.? The Saiya-jin looked around in the dark, inky room, trying to locate the voice that echoed endlessly. ?We received a report of attacks on the Gavi settlers.? Kakarot shook his head slowly in confusion. ?The purchasers of the planet Earth. They contacted us in a rage, claiming we cheated them out of their payment. Apparently, a green man and some winged creatures raided an encampment and slaughtered almost all of the workers.? ??Piccolo,? Kakarot said in a voice thick with bewilderment. Footsteps softly approached, and a large figure appeared at the edge of the light, but just beyond the cone of illumination. ?So, you know of the creature.? ?But? I killed him. Launched myself right through his chest.? ?Was there any chance he survived?? ?No, I vaporized his body afterwards.? Then he looked around at his surroundings. ?Am I under charges?? His interrogator walked slowly around him, staying just beyond the reach of the light. Arms crossed and head held high, he let a slight grunt out. ?We have to wonder, Kakarot. As an infant, your power level was a simple eight. Even then, most newborns could kill you without effort. So we sent you to a Class Four planet; weak sentient creatures and abundant wildlife. I have heard the stories of the rare gifted fighter it housed, but a mere speck of salt in an ocean in comparative numbers. It took you seventeen years, almost eighteen. We projected three years, and you took more than eight times that long. Now we get reports of a quasi-powerful creature setting up his empire in ruins. We?re just wondering what happened.? ??I do not know,? Kakarot admitted. ?I remember every little detail of the fight. How the clouds blocked out the sun, the smell of rain above, and the taste of charred skin in the air? The pure bliss of the fight still returns when I think hard enough on it. King Piccolo was not a Saiya-jin, but he certainly fought like one. It was only fitting that I threw his ashes into the wind.? The interrogator chuckled, and his voice drew tight with sarcasm. ?What race was he?? Kakarot snapped his head up, awaking from his trance. ?I don?t even know. ?I don?t think he even knew.? Once more the interrogator grunted, but continued to circle Kakarot. After four more rounds, he stopped behind the Saiya-jin teen, sending a chill down his spine. ?What about West City?? Kakarot?s eyes clouded over in confusion as if he did not comprehend the words. ?West City?? he whispered, dazed. He slowly turned his head, more so to direct his question than to look. ??Who are you?? ?I am the one interrogating, Kakarot, not you,? he replied with a hint of rage in his voice. ?Answer me.? Kakarot nodded slightly. ?I met a few humans there and two shape shifters. I was young, maybe twelve. I had been injured in one of my fights with Tienshinhan, the thr ?? ?I know who that is, Kakarot. Continue.? ??Well, after letting me rest, they provided me with food and shelter. I decided I could use a break.? ?Who were they?? Kakarot hesitated, trying to think if such association would be considered treason. ?Kakarot, this is will be confidentially between us. There is no reason to fear.? ??Kuririn, Yamcha, Puar, Oolong, Chi-Chi ?? ?What about Bulma?? Kakarot shot up out of his seat sending the flimsy stool flying into the darkness with a clatter as he snarled and turned in place to face his unmoving interrogator. The hum of his shackles became a loud crackle, but he resisted the pain with a brave front. ?Who are you?! How do you know all about Earth?!? A disgruntled chuckle slithered from the shadows after a few seconds. ?I see you do not fully remember yet. Oh, well. Maybe the ripple has not yet faded.? The interrogator walked past, still not completely illuminated. A hint of a red cape floated past with fleeting footsteps as he finished the questioning. ?You?re going back to Earth. Finish Piccolo and his forces. Make sure he doesn?t spit out any eggs this time.? -- Saiya-jins. Warriors of epic legend and fear. Entire civilizations fell to the might of only a few men. The strongest fighters and the best defenses crumbled against the Saiya-jins. They were known throughout the universe as fearsome monsters and astounding combatants. Several things set them apart from the ordinary humanoid species. We will start with the most obvious; the Saiya-jin tail. Any natural-born Saiya-jin has a tail. It serves as several things. Most notably, it allows a Saiya-jin to transform into a giant gorilla-like being called an Oozaru when a Saiya-jin absorbs radiant energy from a moon or planet. Size and power increase tenfold, and most Saiya-jins can control this wild beast within moments using sheer willpower. Of course, this is only if the Saiya-jin has his tail. If transformed into an Oozaru, and his tail is removed, a Saiya-jin will revert to his normal state, losing the boosted power as well. Also, the tail is prehensile, and can manipulate things like a third hand or arm. Likewise, it can be used to hit, strangulate, or grab. A Saiya-jin tail is very strong, just as strong as an arm or a leg. As a child, a Saiya-jin?s tail will grow after being removed by most means, but as a Saiya-jin grows into his teen and adult years, the only way to restore one?s tail is to have it synthetically regrown in a rejuvenation tank. However, some Saiya-jins have a severe weakness in their strength. On some younger and weaker Saiya-jins, or ones that have not experienced it, if the tail is grabbed very hard or pulled, it can cause temporary paralysis and mind-shattering pain. If a Saiya-jin works hard enough to adapt himself to the pain, or builds up his tail?s strength, he can overcome this weakness, but it takes time. Moving on, we look at the Saiya-jin structure. Being very animalistic in form, Saiya-jins share empowered senses that increase as they grow older, as opposed to the common degeneration most other humanoids experience in older age. The Saiya-jin sense of hearing is phenomenal, and they can hear things miles off in the distance. Proportionately, their ears are slightly larger than they should be, but not by much. Another heightened sense Saiya-jins possess is sight. With better depth perception than most other species in the entire universe, they have a top-notch advantage in a fight in that they can gauge an attack?s distance when in sight. Also, they have clarity like none other, and, as with hearing, it only improves over time. Lastly, the Saiya-jin form. It is common knowledge that Saiya-jins grow much stronger after recovering from major wounds, and even minor scrapes and bruises give a slight improvement. This healing ability is often called a ?zenkai power-up?, meaning basically that when restored to a very fit form that their power level shoots up dramatically. This is perfect for a warrior race, and they have evolved over time, honing this physical gift. -- Welcome to Redemption. Technically long ago, Vegita wished the Black Star Dragon Balls back to Earth with the help of Porunga, for their ability to grant any wish when gathered. He had aged considerably since the events of the Shadow Dragons, and was now old, even with the different Saiya-jin aging cycle. He was pushing ninety years old, and with Bulma dead, he longed for something missing. He was slowly reverting to his former self without the companionship of his wife. So he devised a plan. On a planet formerly under the command of Furiza, long-since abandoned after his death at the hands of Trunks, he summoned the Black Shenron. His wish, as stated before, was very complicated. It, in its simplest form, was as follows; As time was to be rewound to the night Furiza destroyed Vegetasei, the full moon would rise and the Saiya-jin race would rally to Bardock?s call. Likewise, the entire Saiya-jin race would be strengthened four times as strong as they were. Kakarot would be moved from his placement next to Burori to prevent the Legendary Super Saiya-jin from going on a rampage later in life. Lastly, his mind would be buffered from the change, and he would remember his old life as he had lived it. The Dragon looked at Vegita for a few moments, considering the weight of the wish, and agreed if Vegita would accept that Kakarot would eventually remember everything as well. Vegita questioned why, and the Dragon replied that the sins of the past must be paid; the Dragon was still insulted over Kakarot?s interference with the Black Star Dragon Balls. Vegita agreed. It is now seventeen years after the night Furiza attempted the destruction of Vegetasei. When faced with an army of Oozarus, Furiza opted for a hasty retreat. He never returned to pester the Saiya-jins again. Since then, the Saiya-jin race has undergone sweeping reforms. The old system of terror and torture was thrown out that very night. The ranking system changed. Classes were nearly abolished as it became painfully clear that Saiya-jins, no matter how weak at birth, could accomplish great things if given the chance. Now Saiya-jins are based on a system of their current power level, but the social distinction between classes barely exists. With influence from Prince Vegita, the social and military structure changed radically. Radio transmissions showed staged dramas reenacting Saiya-jin legends and myths, discussed fighting techniques, showed training programs. Vegetasei had television. With a solid military now, with various branches, actual ranks were established, and many make their lives in this way now. Saiya-jins still pirate off planets, but also hire out squads for other reasons. They have become more like mercenaries than thieves. This period of prosperity intertwined with the Saiya-jin instinct, and many became accustomed to the changes. Time continued on, and for a while, life was good. That was until a General and head of the Defense Council discovered a massive energy signal headed directly for Vegetasei. He spent days on end researching, and came with an answer to name the threat. The Takrei. A race of monstrous beings bent of assimilating the vitality of planets, they hop from system to system like lotus, and destroy all life. This time, it is the Saiya-jins that must endure an invasion. -- That?s the general information [haha, yeah right, I just made your eyes bleed with all of that]. Next is the sign up and images. Well, reverse the order, reference images first. XD [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/TakreiGrunt.JPG]Takrei Grunt[/url] About as tall as a man on its hind legs, and a little stronger than a Saibaman. They can freely use ki and regenerate lost limbs and holes and cuts. They can fight rather well in hand-to-hand combat, but nothing compared to any Saiya-jin over the age of seven. The problem, however, is that they come in swarms, up to the hundreds of thousands in size. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/Drukel.jpg]Drukel the Wielder of the Blue Flame[/url] A squadron commander of the Takrei, and a formidable fighter in his own right. He uses the Blue Flame, a ki-like energy that is highly explosive, but, unlike ki, does not leave an energy signature. Not even the sharpest of senses can pick up a trace of the Blue Flame aside from visually. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/Loki.jpg]Loki the Ki Master[/url] A general in the service of the Takrei legions, Loki has earned his title. He is an expert at the manipulation of energy, in various forms, and can sense the slightest bit of suppressed energy from thousands of miles away. He can even make a living being just by forming and sculpting ki. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/Rulek.jpg]Rulek the Combatant[/url] Rulek is another general in the Takrei hoard. He is wise beyond his years, though he is considerably aged; yet he does not show a sign of it in anything he does. He is respectful, tactical, and most of all, deadly. He is a master in combat techniques, knowing many styles and forms. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/KaSari.JPG]Ka Sari the Huntress[/url] The Commander of the invasion of Vegetasei, and a student of both Loki and Rulek. But do not let it be assumed that she is weaker than her masters; she just underwent training from the both of them. She is far stronger than the both of them individually. This meshes perfectly with her combat spirit. Ka Sari is a fierce woman whose passion for fighting is surpassed by no other being. She lives for the thrill of war and the taste of blood. [url=http://artillerie.250free.com/Vektus.jpg]Vektus the Overlord of the Takrei[/url] There is little known about the Master of the Swarm, but much to be assumed. The way he orders around the likes of Rulek and Ka Sari, for instance, makes one think just how powerful can this demon may be? -- The sign-up sheet is as follows; [b]Name:[/b] [b]Age:[/b] [b]Nickname:[/b] ?Optional- [b]Height:[/b] [b]Weight:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] [b]Biography/History:[/b] ?Doesn?t have to be a novel. Just enough so that we get a good idea of the character?s past and personality.- [b]Signature Attacks:[/b] ?Requested, but not required [and I want original attacks, not a Kamehameha or something.]- [b]Weapons:[/b] ?Optional- [b]Power Level:[/b] ?This RPG will keep constant with power levels. This is required. The max you can have at the beginning is 50,000.- That?s all for now. Enjoy. I put a good deal of effort into this, so I?d really like only committed applicants. Also, I will be selecting those that make it into the final cut, so don?t assume just because your sign-up is decent that you will automatically get in. Just so we know, for the character reference pictures, I claim nothing about them. I simply did Google Image search and cropped ones that fit what I was looking for.

And as Fox turned around, he did not hear the fateful warning; "I gots that jungle fever."

[quote name='AzureWolf']Chaos, it's not a glitch...[/quote] Eh, it used to be a glitch. It was back on v6. You switched to one of the templates and it alone gave you the option to have 100 posts per page. Then you'd switch to the default or another template and it kept the option while the drop-down list only went up to 40.

James, you're so totally wrong about FFVIII! Rinoa was a WHORE! And Squall was GOD! I mean, come on, how can you deny the awesomeness of; "....................." HUH?![/sarcasm] Honestly, that game made me mad. Okay, Squall is on his badboy loner kick, fine. Let him be if he so chooses. BUT! Don't change him the second a piece of *** walks on the screen. If you're going to stress a character's supposed badassness, then for the love of God, don't make him reform to someone totally different. Rinoa did piss me off, though. It's like everyone's getting stomped by these horrid monsters and she calls her damn [i]dog[/i] in to fight. At least summon a damn GF or something. So yeah. Conflicting personality traits suck, mostly. I'd say the "I'll change my ways for you" love stories are my biggest pet peeves. But not all love stories. Take Prince of Persia: Sands of Time. The Prince and Farah slowly develop a relationship after harsh combat and being the only two [non-evil] humans within miles and miles, with only each other for support. Both dig each other, and they are both royalty. But when the moment of truth passes by, the Prince freezes, suspecting foul play. Big mistake. They forgive and forget, and have sechs in a pool that magically was untouched even though the entire foundation of the castle was corroding away. And then he cries for her at the end. Aww. How sweet. Now that is some good interaction. They foster a bond through trials and tribulations, only to be almost shattered at the end. Warrior Within, however, irked me. Kaileena was such a hack for what she did. *****. Anyway, other than that, my most hated video game cliche is either pushing crates and boxes [though playing as one rawks. GO MGS!], or collecting coins, only to lose them when you get hit by an enemy. Since when does money affect your physical well-being? Ah, since forever, but I mean literally. It's stupid. It's like Sonic and his rings. "I can run so many times faster than you but if you touch me I will lose some rings and I will be sad ='(" God, can't they all JUST DIE!? No, but eh. Who cares, right? Games are games because they need some sort of variety...but it's not much variety when everyone has the same platforming style, huh?

[QUOTE=doukeshi03][COLOR=DimGray][SIZE=1][b]What is it?[/b] [U]Getting rid of the Battle Arena[/U] [b]Why is it nifty?[/b] Even though I did use it from time to time I think it was great when the OB was finally rid of it. Not only did it encourage bad posting it also stimulated spammers and those more aggressive of posters. It was just a den to be honest.[/SIZE][/COLOR][/QUOTE] Hey, I resent that... ...Ah, who the Hell am I kidding? It went to Hell in a handbasket. It was very fun in its earlier days. Finally, all of those rants to James paid off. ;) Anyway, on-topic... 1. "What is it?" [u]The Staff[/u] 1a. "Why is it nifty?" [i]Well, other than the fact that this entire place would be a total and unbearable wreck without them, most of them are just plain great people. I say most because I don't really know half of them, and I can't really make character judges based on title alone, can I? Well, yes, I can, but I won't. Go Team Otaku.[/i] 2. "What is it?" [u]The Maverick Hunters series.[/u] 2a. "Why is it nifty?" [i]What originally started off as a very sketchy idea for a Megaman RPG by Flash and Warlock [with myself yelling out random ideas that made no sense] turned into a huge epic that, sadly enough, faded for a while. Around the end of the first RPG, Replimasters, a lot of people drifted off, but James and Warlock pushed ahead with the series, and when Flash came back, they collaborated for Personification. From there, Warlock and Flash were off and on at times, having problems with this and that, so James took the helm, while I stood and tried to look busy. We went off on a bit of a tangent, but it worked just the same as a great story and some incredible action to boot. James later went on with his own project, based on the MH series, The Third Succession, but, regrettably, it died out. But James revamped it and, in fact, today, rereleased it as B-Spec. I chose to sit this one out, but every now and then, I have a wild hair to pick up Personification [but I don't really do anything since I really don't know where to pick up at XD].[/i] 3. "What is it"? [u]MyOtaku.com[/u] 3a. "Why is it nifty?" [i]I was originally skeptical of the MyOtaku launch, thinking it would become little more than shallow blogs so people could write out their angst in a manner of color, fonts, and sizes. Thankfully, it boosted in popularity and became ablaze with intelligent postings [gasp, horror], and I even made my own...even though I neglect it for months on end. Either way, with the intergration of MyOtaku.com and OtakuBoards.com, it picked up even more, and it has lead to some very interesting conversations. *remembers the debate over the complexity of the Terminator series on Alex's blog*[/i] 4. "What is it?" [u]Kill Adam[/u] 4a. "Why is it nifty?" [i]The brainchild of months of work was a fairly simple serious spoof of the hit films Kill Bill, but were distinct enough to be considered famed. I remember hearing James go on and on about it well before the creation of the RPG/novel, but I humored my curiosity with other things to bide my time [ooh, sparkly!]. When it came out, I was very pleased. I had not expected a scripted storyline, but that was the beauty of the thing. It forced the lucky chosen members [of which I am not included in [/grudge :p] to not only adapt their story-telling abilities, but remain true to the context of the plot. Needless to say, with the mix of talent and strain, it proved to be radically [b]awesome[/b]. [spoiler]Plus there was lots o' blood and guts. Teehee.[/spoiler][/i] 5. "What is it?" [u]Dragonball Battlefield[/u] 5a. "Why is it nifty?" [i]What had started on v2 as a simple tournament swiftly evolved into a story worthy of mention. While never original on the basis that a superior enemy appeared to claim the universe, Flash and others managed to pour years of work [oft times stalling midway through a plot arc] into the RPG in order to ultimately arrive at deep character involvement, interesting bondings, and an ending that was worthy of something as epic as the project. If you ever get the urge, go read it. It's worth it.[/i] 5. "What is it?" [u]Oldbies[/u] 5a. "Why is it nifty?" [i]'It' is nifty because they were around when I first came to OtakuBoards.com. I started coming here during v3, knowing only a couple of people, and involved in some very shady topics [PRP, anybody?]. But, luckily, I grew out of this and met some very cool people. Off the top of my head, from my n00b days, Ken, Craig, Andrew, Charlie, D'Ann, Warlock, Flash, Piro, Tori [even though I was considered a big jerk those days :D], and nigh countless more. A lot of them stopped coming not too long ago, but I stick around for the Hell of it, pretty much... I still for the most part keep in touch, except for Flash, whom I haven't talked to in it seems like a year. In either case, I've met some great people here, a lot more than I can type out, and I am a better person because of it.[/i] 6. "What is it?" A glitch. 6a. "Why is it nifty?" Back in v6, there was one skin, I believe the old Liquid, that allowed you to set your viewable posts per page at 100, and if you kept that setting saved somehow, it carried over to v7, even though the option no longer exists [to my knowledge]. AJ, another great friend, told me about it one day when v6 was still in its infancy and I tried it. Stuck with it ever since. I love it, yet I don't know why. I think it's just because it looks more streamlined this way... Eh, whatever. It is l337. Pwn3d. And stuff.

[img]http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/screenshots/images/screenoftheday/ss0012.jpg[/img] What happens when you refuse to get a colonoscopy.

I've finished the game four times through, getting both endings, and from that alone I can tell there will be a sequel. Not that it really matters, because this is a purely AWESOME game. The story is pretty well thought out, excluding a potential paradox later in the game with the [spoiler]Sand Wraith[/spoiler], but overall, in both endings it ties up well. The gameplay is a lot better, too. There are actually more enemies in a standard game than Sands of Time, actually, but they are placed fairly evenly throughout the game so that you don't get hammered with two hundred hulking sand beasts that take twenty swings to kill. The ability to link virtually anything into any type of combo is awesome, and very devestating. There is pinpoint damage in the game, too; one time I ran up a wall and did a splash landing with my swords and watched as an enemy was disarmed [literally] as well as split down the middle. The music accompanies you more this time through, as dramatic, sorrowful tunes urge you on to the next room, when sudden pounding metal with an exotic twist to it pumps you for a fight. And then there is the Dahaka. I don't care what any of you say, he scares the **** out of me every time I have to go by him or fight him. The fact of the matter is you REALLY have to run your *** off to escape, and sometimes the weakest flinch in the wrong direction spells instant death, since he nullifies your rewind ability as soon as he touches you. And the music fits for his chases. "I Stand Alone", but only the instrumental. The Ubisoft made a good choice to not include the lyrics. Would have ruined the experience. There are few glitches, but those that exist will make you rip your hair out, like the one that makes Prince not adapt to his surroundings. For example, if you jump for a ledge that you have to hang off of, he'll just bounce off like he hit a solid wall and fall to his death. Another is the sand portal glitch, where if you go back into the portal you just came through immediately, the game stops at the end and doesn't let you continue when you fight [spoiler]Kaileena[/spoiler]. The only cure for these bugs? Restart the game. Ew. But, other than that, this game does the POP name justice. A suitable change for a more dramatic and mature gamer to match the affects of the life on the run the Prince has had to endure. Worth buying.

Dj Professor, I doubt many Soviet weapons research labs had Japanese pop star posters up anyway. It's just a little add-in Kojima has kept around for a while. A joke. You really thing the Red Army would put pin-ups in a military building or a United States aircraft would have a smutty picture in the cockpit of a prototype insertion rocket? After reading a good portion of the discussion here, I really have nothing to offer except that I think this game is fantastic. The story is pretty good, and ties in with the other installments very nicely. I like that Hideo decided to explain the history a bit more without five hours of garbled conversation between an A.I. program and a prissy little boy. The gameplay was fun, to be honest. I loved the fact that in almost any situation, you could do just about anything. Take the weapons facility for example. You can put on the scientist uniform when you knock on the door and be taken directly inside the prison for "escaping" or you can grab the guard when he opens the door and dispose of him as you please and sneak in quietly...or just blow the hell out of the place. The weapons were nicely detailed. As a gun fanatic I can assure you they did a good job with recreating an active battle-ready weapon and it's effects. Firing a heavy machine gun for too long will dull your hearing and you'll have a slight retina burn on your eyes from the muzzle flash. Watching bullets rip through both people and environments alike is just breathtaking, and, in that respect, this game succeeds. The enemy A.I. is fair as well, but somethings could be changed, but, then again, we don't want some para-military Elite soliders swarming in and slaughtering you from your little hiding spot behind a log, now do we? At least this time they act somewhat sensible when they hear a gunshot, or when someone checks in with HQ and doesn't finish the transmission. I remember in MGS2 after hearing "Why are you late with your status report?!" on one of the strut bridges that I could plant three or four claymores and laugh as the soldiers barrelled down the catwalk without regard for safety. Now soldiers move slow enough to look before they leap. They check behind trees when they walk past in the Caution modes, they circle around corners instead of turning sharply with their eyes pointed down the shaft of the incoming round. And the bosses were better this go-round, except the Fear and Pain. Fear was a lame Vamp type with even more predictable moves and the Pain just plain sucked. He actually just stands around when you toss a grenade at his feet... His bees are idiots and they move slower than a retarded grandma. His tommygun attack takes so long that you're on the otherside of the cave by the time he starts shooting. The End was a decent challenge, and I felt a certain respect for him [even though since he pegged me right in the forehead the first chance he got, I ate his parrot]. The Sorrow was a semi-confusing boss battle, but it was a good change of pace and made you think at parts. The Fury really came through on his codename, and I got the Hell out of the way when he started getting mad. A shame his fight was so formulative and could be countered by standing by a door that you'd just wait for him to walk by and launch a rocket round or something. The fight with Boss was literally epic. On Extreme, that has to be the best time I've ever had while getting slammed into the dirt hard enough to bloody flower petals. And the parts with Ocelot were hilarious. His handmotions were so dramatic and overplayed I had to laugh, and the first time he got his Single Action Armies and holstered one the wrong way almost made me die with tears in my eyes. But Volgin is a different story. An absurdly easy boss fight on even the highest difficulty and the Shagohod was even simpler. Infinite ammo? For god's sake, at least make us run to a stock of ammo once in a while. All in all, I like this game. A lot. Maybe too much. The simplicity of some of the game is not enough to turn me off from it. So what if you only press a button to remove a bullet or stitch a wound? The fact of the matter is, if you get into a situation where you need IMMEDIATE medical attention, you just might be in the situation to run out of supplies. I know on the harder difficulties I opted to tranq EVA at the end to save supplies for myself, especially with the final fight with the Boss. The camo index doesn't bother me as much as it apparently does others. I find on many occasions it cannot be trusted. I can be prone on the ground with 80% and still be noticed dozens of yards off on normal and higher up. Really though if something as simple as a number that gauges how well you're hidden bothers you to the extent to have a full-blown discussion of it possibly ruining the gameplay, you ought to take a step back. It's there because it IS a game, not because they want to hold your hand. Even with the best camo, you can always be seen one way or another. It's not like the developers were trying to give you an easy way out, they just wanted to help you some. Can you imagine how much of an uproar the lesser-gifted players would be without it? Sure, some MG vets would put two and two together and decide that you running around in a fire-red suit in the night won't be the smartest thing in the world to do, but for the most part, others would be literally WRATHFUL if this great game was hampered by always being sighted because they didn't know exactly how well they were hidden. But, whatever. People take things how they want to. *shrug*

Honestly, people are just too up-tight these days. I remember once in SOCOM at a friend's place I got blown completely the hell away, something really rare for me because I'm fairly good at the game. Some guy planted like three Claymores right down the path of this one jungle map, and for the life of me, I cannot remember the name, but oh, well. He pumped me full of red-hot pellets and shot my body once in the head for good measure, even though I was about twenty feet away from the original blast area. I said "Goddamnit, that blew so hard." and, admittedly, I was a bit mad. He just went completely over the top for just one guy, and as soon as I respawned, I caught a knife to the throat, compliments of the same guy. My retort was something similar as before, but this time he apparently got mad. He yelled at me for a few minutes, calling me this and that, saying how lame I was, and how much I sucked, and he didn't mean to make me cry, blah blah blah. So I calmly said, as I crawled in a prone position very slowly that I wasn't blaming him or anything, just making commentary. I didn't mean to offend him, it's just that I think it's necessary to say something every now and then. He responded slightly apologizing, offering to put the whole thing behind us. That's when I'm sure he heard the clink of the grenade and let loose a "DAMMIT!" as his character went flying. He mustered a mighty "******* YOU, A**HOLE!" before leaving and apparently running to tell his clan or cronies or whatever you want to call them... I just don't understand how people can get so bent out of shape over something as simple as an online game. Sure, he plucked your head off with a fifty cal sniper rifle, sure, he blew you to atoms with a rocket launcher, sure, he gunned you down in a Ghost. So what? Just respawn and get revenge, or die trying. I suppose this is pretty moot since 98% of all gamers are not going to follow that or similar advice and instead just start cursing AT the person that offed him or her. Sure, say something every once in a while, a little smack is good in a competitive game, but holy hell, don't start a world war over it.

... Well, out of all the times I've been killed, I think that was the best one yet. If ya gotta go, right? I'm fairly amused. Had to keep highlighting text, though. Blue + blue = ow. [spoiler]Like, Jesus, since when do the women folk hate me all of a sudden. ...Haha, "all of a sudden"? XD[/spoiler]

"Ease up, soldier, its all fun and games until someone loses an eye." Vae smiled at his own childish joke while kept his eyes sweeping and his SOCOM raised. The uniformed soldier before him muttered a few curses, and wiped some of the green paint from his forehead, clearing his goggles. Vae walked slowly, both hands placed on his weapon, left hand on the handle, with his right cupped under his left. The LAM was off, but his aim was dead on without a pinpoint laser. His M82A1 was slung across his back horizontally, held in place by the wrap-around pack that matched his snowdrift motif field uniform. He walked quietly, yet quickly, around the towers. He had found a way on the LANDSAT scans, through the thick forest. He came out just fifty meters from the tree line and remade his mound of snow swiftly about the time the fire team began to descend the second tower. He set up his M82A1 on its legs, and gently opened his laptop. He ran a thermo diagnostic and radio scan and about the time his squad emerged, just as he heard a distant shot. "COVER!" he shouted in the pale night, not thinking quickly enough to go over the radio. Luckily, his voice carried far enough to his team, but also to his unseen enemies. A hail of gunfire and shells met the squad. Thankfully, there were a few oaks and snow mounds, and they gained defilade. A muffled explosion shattered the side of the tower, collapsing a pile of debris over the doorway, and lead peppered the area. Vae heard a beep, and looked to his laptop. "Shit. Shit, shit shit," he said, in pure disbelief. "Sir... We have a tank out there. And a shy over half a dozen infantry. Heavily armed. I can't get a clear shot from this vantage point." "Any ideas, team?" Panther said, not bothering to hide his anger.

Yeah, I suppose it is because I just snapped. At that point in my life I was in some trouble with the police and on probation and everyday I was catching crap from everyone. And the more I thought about it, I just felt senseless dread knowing that I could actually do that without really caring. I may make a lot of jokes in chats about stabbing AJ, or beating Wehzors over the head with a shovel...but in all honesty, I would not like a life where I could walk up to someone, blow their brains out, and just not care.

My God. My prayers have been answered. [b]Playboy Otaku.[/b] There is a Heaven and I have found it. [spoiler]Really funny, while I'm at it. =P[/spoiler] Edit: Do you know how sheerly [i]cool[/i] it is to open a page and find a half-naked Faye?

[QUOTE=Break][size=1]That is actually sick, Chaos. I have yet to come by a worst experience, let's hope it never happens.[/size][/QUOTE] What? You thought that mindless cursing was just for fun?

Interesting topic. My worst moment was hardly painful. Quite the opposite, it was pure bliss. I'll never forget it. It's a bit sadistic, so if you feel like looking away, now might be a pretty good time, even though it's fairly simple. I used to live next door to this aging man. He was sixty-three at the time I had just made fourteen, and that's all I really knew about him. We lived in a double, paying him the rent. He mowed the lawn. I took care of most of the outdoor housework, like cleaning the gutters, trimming the tree, and even replaced a section of broken bricks once. He generally kept to himself and his two cats, and didn't say much to either me or my mother. Not that it really bothered us, just that he didn't seem to like many people. He did have a temper though, especially when it came to Cookie, my dog. She never liked cats for as long as I can remember, and likewise, cats generally didn't like her, either. Twice she had managed to tear up the backyard going after my neighbor's cats. Each time I managed to stop her before she could get her teeth around one of them. I'd bring the cat next door just as this old man stepped outside with a small handgun with a CO2 canister sticking out the handle. One day I came home from school to find my dog outside in my backyard, whining. She wasn't hungry. Wasn't thristy. She just got up on the couch when I let her back inside and she just stayed there, sighing and very, very slightly whimpering. I was getting a little worried, so I got up from the chair and sat by her. I did this little thing with a towel where I covered her face and pulled it off quickly; she loves that for some reason, and to this day it remains a favorite game between us. But on this day, she didn't respond like normal. She just looked at me and wagged her tail, but there was something odd about that. She had a slight hitch in the movement when she brought up her tail, and then would let it fall back down, not actually swinging, just raising and dropping. I ran my hand along her back, all the way down her tail while giving her a whispered "shhh" to her slightly more pained whimper. My hand came back red, with a slight streak of blood. Immedietly, I changed. Those of you that know me know I am infamous for my rage. But this was something different. I got worried. My face paled, I could tell by the way I started shaking. Cookie was an adopted pet, and the first year of her life was pretty bad. We had taken her in just three months after my first dog, Lacey died. Lacey had been there my entire life, from when I got home after fights, to when my parents divoreced, everything. Cookie filled a gap that I suddenly found when Lacey died. And here she was, bleeding on my couch for some reason. I did a full inspection. Going over her entire body with my face just a bare inch from her skin. I found the wounds pretty easily, they were on her left hind leg, since the dried blood led me right to three holes. I found three flat-tip pellets in her skin. I know it hurt her, but I got some tweezers and worked them out of her skin. I gave her a Dramamine and after she feel asleep, I put some gauze over her wounds and wrapped it with some bandaging. I didn't tell my mom until she got home at two in the morning since the wounds barely did anything but make Cookie whine. But that story was told so I could tell mine. At ten that night, I walked outside with a lockblade knife and waited. It was a summer night, so I didn't have much trouble finding one of the cats, since they prowled around as they pleased. I grabbed the big white one, named Rico. I worked quick, with my hand over the little bastard's head. For some reason, only Rico was declawed. I never questioned why the Russian Blue, Victor, wasn't, but I didn't care at this point. I was delivering a message. First I drug the blade across the cat's left hind, trying to sever whatever version of the Achille's tendon a cat would have. Then I made three shallow cuts across the animal's right flank, in the form of a claw mark, going upper right to lower left. Next was the tail. I skinned a good portion of it off, leaving wet muscle to be plainly seen through the blood. The last part was the best. I tightened my left hand around Rico's neck until he stopped moving. I put my knife down and felt his chest with my right hand. There was a faint beat, but he would live. I left the cat on the doorstep of my neighbor's back porch, nice, defined letters cut into the fur. "Don't **** with my dog." We moved out of that house a month later. We never spoke to the old man, not even when paying rent. We'd just leave the check in the mailbox and knock on the door twice. I assume he never called the police or any other form of authority, since we never had any trouble from the incident. Rico lived. He walked with a slight limp, but other than that, he was fine. The old man died earlier this year. Lung cancer. I have to say I really felt sorry that he died, as he was survived by two children and three grandchildren, but to be honest, even before this incident, I didn't really like him. This was all a pretty simple night. It wasn't too life-changing. Wasn't catestrophic. Didn't change my outlooks on life. But I did snap. Out of all the fights, all the arguments, all the issues I had in my life, this one nearly broke me in two. I had been through a considerable amount of trouble that yeah, and the thought of someone hurting my dog was just too much. So I corrected this error. Oh, you should have heard Rico scream, though. He felt just like I did. Enraged, yet tortured. Just ready to break loose and unleash hell. I know someone who works for the LASPCA, and I wanted to know whatever happened to Rico and Victor. After the man died, they were put up for adoption, until the man's children came by. They brought them both home. According to the records, they are in Ohio. Taking a life is one thing, but ruining one is another. I felt somewhat bad until I found this out about what I had done. The two cats are fine. Rico apparently has no problems whatsoever, aside from scars that are consealed by thick fur and a gimpy walk. But it is as they say; revenge is a dish best served cold. And I cannot help but say I loved that feeling that night. To be in power. To control this creature's fate. To avenge my Cookie's pain. God help me, I loved it... So that's my worst experience. Worst, perhaps, because it showed me my limits as a person, and my boundaries as a monster. There is only a thin red line between Earth and Hell, and that night, I think I crossed it.

James, I'd like to talk to you about something before commiting a sign-up. I'll try to speak with you on AIM tomorrow. I'll just edit this when we finish.

[quote name='Valen']Penguin: "Eat At Joe's... ...Or Else, B-tch!" (-Chaos)[/quote] Wow, talk about old school... "You did WHAT to the turkey...?"

Kane, our squad has simple paint rounds, but this is a live-fire exercise. Meant to keep us at a disadvantage. It's actually used quite often in the military. By the way, with my exception, we're inside the first communications tower. =) -- "Sir, do you copy?" Panther pressed his right finger to the corresponding ear and replied. "I'm picking up some scrambled transmissions down here. Sounds like air traffic." "What's the payload?" Phantom Panther, begrudged, asked, a small curl on the left of his mouth. "Can't confirm, sir, but in this weather, a plane would most likely frost over, and most choppers would, too," Vae rattled off, while thinking in his head. "Given the storm, temperature, location, altitude...I'd have to say either an AH-64 Apache or a RAH-66 Comanche." "What would you say the chances are that they'll have one in the air?" Panther questioned, voice still dripping with aggravation. "Well, since we're using paint rounds, there would be a very limited chance that we'd do damage to the thing," Vae muttered, realizing now that they were practically taunting Command Harrier to launch air support. "So I'd recommend a cautious approach. I'll keep an eye on the satellite scans, but right now, there's nothing within four miles in the air." "...Right. Do that, Vae." "Don't shoot the messenger, sir."