|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 12:09 am
Welcome to my request page Words to heed: Read before you proceed.
Good morning...
Good afternoon...
Good evening...
Please insert which ever applies as to the time of day it is when you find this little jewel which reminds me of, how many is it now, the thousands of threads just like it here. I am Kaiser, or Echo, or Finch, an Advanced (I think…) role-player looking to improve his playing ability whilst developing a writing style that I can use later in life for the various books I plan on writing. That’s right people! Another mediocre amateur author is knocking at your door step.
Now, I am looking for someone either on my level or above it. Someone who will try and help me improve. Normally I type around three to six paragraphs; I am trying to extend my posts without horribly stretching things out needlessly. This crusade for improvement has made me very self-conscious of my posts, I will sometimes ask you, my partner, your thoughts on a post and if you have any suggestions. Currently I’m working on post length, I sometimes feel my posts are inadequate.
Also, a slight addendum, I am also open to group Roleplays, Roleplays on other sites, and Just about any thing you can throw at me. I like trying new things and testing the boundaries of my roleplaying ability. Please, don’t be afraid to ask about anything. A chance to do something new is always appreciated. Just forgive me if it takes a little time to get in the groove.
So to Role-play with me I ask that you are capable of a few things:
1. You can type in full sentences.
2. You can spell or have some form of spell check program.
3. You post between three and six paragraphs per post (On average).
4. You enjoy comedy as well as serious situations.
5. You can take some form of initiative.
6. You can deal with sarcasm and on occasion…Wit.
7. You enjoy the occasional off the wall Idea.
8. You can play as more than one character.
9. You have the drive to look something up online if you don’t understand a historical reference. Like how the Red Baron isn’t a Nazi (Don’t understand? Go look it up!)
10. Your PM is titled “Thunderbirds are go!”
11. I'm a big boy. If you don't wish to play any more, tell me. We can always start a new game, or go our separate ways. I can't stand not being informed though.
12. Please, If you have YM, MSN, AIM, or ICQ, Drop me a line. I love talking to people From Gaia. Just let me know who you are.
AIM: KaiserGaara
MSN:KaiserGaara@hotmail.com
Yahoo:KaiserGaara@yahoo.com
ICQ: 397531618
*As an after note, and I feel obligated to say this even if I shouldn’t have to, it is okay to write a shorter post if necessary, I would simply prefer a three to six paragraph post.*
If you can handle such down right outrageous requests, feel free to leave a comment here or send me a PM.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 12:10 am
As for how I play to begin with, I try to shy away from pre-made characters. I like making up new people. So when I list the TV shows/Movies/Books/Video games I would like to role-play, note that I only use the general locations and concepts, I try not to use their characters. For the sake of my sanity and ease of organization, I'll list things by Genre.
and Here is the Gaara-o-meter, registering how interested I am in a RP.
wahmbulance = I wants it real bad
biggrin = Totally
smile = I can to that
neutral = Maybe...
sad = I'm not too sure
stressed = Have a good plot
burning_eyes =Way too many bad experiences
Currently Craving: 'STAR WARS: CLONE WARS' or 'Halo' based RoleplaysTelevision Shows:
Freakazoid smile
Dr.Who wahmbulance
Firefly wahmbulance
Megas XLR wahmbulance
Reboot biggrin
Psyche wahmbulance
A-Team smile
Starship Trooper Chronicles: Roughnecks wahmbulance
Storm Hawks smile
Avatar: The last Airbender wahmbulance
Jake 2.0 smile
Thunderbirds biggrin
Transformers smile
Movies:
Star Wars wahmbulance
Wanted biggrin
Hitman biggrin
Bourne Identity/Supremacy/Ultimatum wahmbulance
District B-13 smile
Chronicles of Riddick smile
The Matrix smile
Constantine smile
Video Games:
Kingdom Hearts I/II smile
Mercenaries 1/2
Tales of Pirates smile
Metal Saga biggrin
Psychonaughts biggrin
Jet Grind Radio / Jet Set Radio Future biggrin
Final Fantasy 7 smile
Final Fantasy 10 smile
Poke'mon smile (Note that it is under Video games)BioShock biggrin
Command and Conquer smile
Dead Rising
Armored Core For Answer
Halo 1/2/3 biggrin Anime:
Naruto wahmbulance
Outlaw Star biggrin
Black Lagoon smile
One Piece wahmbulance
Cowboy Bebop biggrin
Trigun biggrin
Digimon smile
Hellsing biggrin
Big O smile
Gundam Wing biggrin
Gundam 8th MS Team smile
Gundam wahmbulance
Full Metal Panic biggrin
Robotech smile
Ranma 1/2 smile
Zoids wahmbulance
Books/Graphic Novels/Comic Books:
Timeline smile
Sin City biggrin
X-men wahmbulance
V for Vendetta biggrin
Blade Dancer smile
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy biggrin
Other:
World War smile
Zombie Smashing smile
Pirates smile
Elemental powers neutral
Boarding school neutral
Band type thing neutral
Bounty Hunter neutral
Neighbors neutral
Apocalypse smile
Mythology smile
Ideas of your own? Please PM me, I love to hear new ideas.
((Everyone else had colors, I felt left out...))
((P.S.))
I would like to make note of something, I am a busy guy offline, I do many things. I have a gruelingly hard job; I'm on a maintenance team at a camp down the road. I play paintball, Hang out with friends and Spend time doing homework. Now this means that I might take a while to respond.
It is just that I do many things other than RP, not to mention that I leave my computer on all day. So don't expect a response between 8AM and 6PM, It most likely won't happen. But if you are worried I ditched you, simply write me another PM asking what's up, and I will gladly explain.
Love, Peace and Chicken grease,
Echo of the Firelies
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 12:12 am
Characters I've Created (For various Roleplays):
User Name: Echo of the Firelies
Character Name: Maximilian Kaiser
Race/Species: Human
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Appearance: Max is of an average height and weight. His dark red hair tends to sit over his green eyes. A thin scar marks his right cheek, a gift from a bar fight back when he first joined the crew. He sports his new blue captain’s pants and a tan jacket over a black undershirt, nothing that would stick out terribly. With scuffed steel-toed boots, ones he inherited with the ship, he walks the streets with the slouch of a boy carrying more than his fair share.
Background: Born on Bespin, Max grew up breaking into mainframes and selling their information. Using the handle Seraph, he had a rather large bounty on his head. it was then that he retired from the slicing business for a spell, and devoted his time to developing an AI program that could do the work for him.
After a year or so of tinkering with a protocol droids programming, Seraph II was born. She was the program which makes its home In Max’s clockwatcher but could hop into any system within a hundred yards via the small antenna. From within a system she could communicate to Max what ever he wanted to find out.
Soon after her ‘birth’ Max found himself in trouble with a nasty group of bounty hunters in a Cantina on Tatooine. Viktor Rikov, the original captain of the Segomo, helped him escape the brawl and offered him a job on the ship. For two years he flew under Viktor and couldn’t be happier, until Captain Rikov died.
A disagreement had taken place on the landing pad over some illegal goods. The dispute ended with blasters being drawn and everyone dying save one Cordu-Ji who was arrested and sent to Kessel. The ship ended up in an impound lot. Nothing Seraph couldn’t fix. She simply rewrote the information in the database so that it would to be released to Max. A few Credits later the ship was his.
Official Occupation: Captain of the light freighter, Segomo
Actual Occupation: Smuggler and Slicer
Weapon type: Blasters
Alliance: Neutral
Specialties: slicing
Extra Information: Max inherited the ship when Viktor died.
Theme song: Journey of the Sorcerer by the Eagles _____________________________________________________________
User Name: Echo of the Firelies
Character Name: Viktor Nikolas Rikov
Race/Species: Human
Age: 21
Sex: Male
Appearance: Viktor is a tall among the Humans, Standing 6’3”. His spiked green hair makes him standout in a crowd, and his mismatched Blue and Green eyes don’t help much either when it comes to dissolving into a crowd. He normally wears either a Black New Republic Flight suit or an old Imperial uniform. No matter what clothing he wears he always has his trusty pistol at his side and scuffed steel toed boots on him. Nothing negotiates better than a pair of mean looking boots, especially when they are stomping your face.
Background: Viktor was raised on the Super Star Destroyer Hydra, his father being the admiral of a large fleet based in the Bespin system. Not only was his father an Admiral, but so was his father, and his, all the way back to the Mandalorian wars. They had served their respective governments with unwavering loyalty for over three thousand years. Viktor had the potential to become a great fleet commander as well; he finished his schooling early and had become a captain at the young age of eighteen. But after two years of serving the Empire, he had grown weary of fighting someone else’s war. So he consulted with his Grandfather, the legendary Nikolas “Omega” Rikov, who was known for not always doing things by the book. If fact, it was rare that Granddad did things by the book, he was always consulting with mercenaries and militia groups. His grandfather told him to follow his dreams, which was a hint to become the adventure seeking traveler he had read about in his studies. Viktor was amazing in the cockpit of a ship; he made ships do things most pilots only dreamed of. His Ship of Choice was the YT-1300, there were so many in the historic files. The only other ship Viktor wanted was a Victory Class Star Destroyer, but that is a different story. On his Twentieth birthday, Grandpa Rikov gave Viktor a Little gift, A YT-1300. The ship was brand new, a recreation of the original, every part was Imperial grade or in the prototype phase, Grandpa had his connections. Viktor left the Imperial Navy the following week with two astromech droids and a Small crew of loyal men, (a pilot, navigator, and a mechanic) but they left his service when he reached the next port. So now he sails the black in search of money and adventure.
Weapon type: Blaster, Close combat, Melee
Alliance: Neutral (neither New Republic nor Imperial)
Specialties: piloting, Mechanics, and electronics
Extra Information: Viktor is still very close with his grandfather, but he does not talk to his father at all. His dream is to one day own a Victory Class Star Destroyer of his own. He is very loyal to his crew and is always ready to fight for them. He is the owner and captain of the Segomo.
_____________________________________________________________
Gaia Username: Echo of the Firelies
Character name: Hyuuga Kaiser
Age: 16
Bio: Kaiser is a member of the Hyuuga Clan, he has spent the past several year perfecting the Gentle Fist and has recently been implementing Strong fist into his combat style. He is versatile, quick on his feet, and deadly efficient.
Persona: The boy is head strong and quick to fight. He is not much of a thinker off the battle field. He would much rather settle things with fists than words, but he has been know to show some compassion occasionally.
Jutsu Focus: taijutsu
Jutsu: Gentle fist, drunken fist, Muy Thai, various other styles of strong fist.
Weapons: nothing special _____________________________________________________________
Name: Tobias Locke
Age: 21
Rank: Jounin
Village: Hidden Sand
Appearance:
Locke stands around 6’4” and has a slouch about him. Green spiky hair sits atop his head, which off sets his blue eyes. He wears a standard flak jacket over a long sleeve black shirt; underneath which is a chain-mail vest rests. With his unconventional baggy pants and steel-toed boots, it’s sometimes hard to tell he is a Jounin.
Bio: Tobias is the Hidden Sands answer to Hatake Kakashi; I ninja who knows countless jutsus and can adapt to just about any situation. Formally a Hunter-Nin, Locke now spends his time working for the Kazekage. He is the vessel of the seven-tailed phoenix, which makes him a valuable asset to the Hidden Sands arsenal. Though he his rather easy-going normally, he sometimes lets his anger get the best of him. All that is known about Tobias is that he has a demon sealed in him; he has a rather extensive list of completed missions, and his home address in the Hidden Sand (no one is even sure if he really lives there or not…). He can normally be found Watching over Gaara, whom he shares a rather similar burden with.
Weapons: Katar, and standard ninja weaponry.
Bloodline Limit: one-handed seals, twin voice technique, Fenikkusu Me
Jutsu:
Tsuin Onsei No Jutsu (The Twin voice technique) – This technique allows the user to say two things at once, it is the Bloodline trait of the Locke clan, and has devastating potential when paired with single handed seals.
Fenikkusu Me (Phoenix eye) – Created to combat the Sharingan, the Phoenix eye is an eye Jutsu which allows the user to copy other ninja’s Jutsus, as well as slightly increasing the users reaction time. It requires seals to be generated and does not have any other abilities the Sharingan has, nor can it dispel any type of Genjutsu. It is nowhere near as affective as the Sharingan.
Otochiireru Kusari Myou no Jutsu (ensnaring chains of destiny skill) – In this Jutsu, a large number of Kunai, connected to chains, shoot forth from the ground in a circle. They intertwine and become a net that traps the enemy and slowly drains his/her Chakra.
Michi sousha doumeihigyou (Road runner strike) – The user charges the arms and legs with chakra, increasing his/her speed and strength. Then the user rushes the enemy and plants a single, or double, fisted strike to the enemy’s midsection. Though it was developed as a empty handed attack, its deadliness is exponentially increased when coupled with the Katar. _____________________________________________________________
User Name: Echo of the Firelies
Name: Locke Gabriel Vee
Codename: Genome
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Nationality: American
Power: The power to rewrite his own Genetic code (As well as steal the abilities of any mutant who he comes into physical contact with.). The only way to tap into this power is to go into a meditative state, but once rearranged he can use an ability normally. If it is a subconscious power (Healing factor), it will work all by itself without any real thought. If it is a conscious power (The control of metal) it might need an activation sequence, such as a finger snap, until Genome is adept with his power. Also, there is a limit to the number of powers he can have at the ready, about three specific abilities at a time. Any more and he might passout and go comatose. To swap powers in and out requires him to go into his meditative state. He can only affect his own makeup, not that of anyone else.
Current Powers: Heightened speed, senses, strength, agility, and intelligence. Sabertooth’s healing factor. Pyro’s ability to control already created fire. Magneto’s ability to control already forged Metal, within approximately twenty feet. (Opening a locked door, firing a gun, starting an engine.)
(Both Pyro and Magneto’s abilities requires a finger snap activation).
Alignment: None, ever…
Appearance: Locke stands at 5’11” with spiky green hair. He weighs about 170 pounds and dresses in fairly standard street wear. A pair of red converse, black jeans with a seatbelt belt, yellow T-shirt which reads “Ambiguous” and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth nine out of ten times.
Background: Locke was a Brotherhood science project on par with Weapon X and Hydra’s X-23. The first person to touch him was Sabertooth, and then when he showed signs of rapid healing, they began running tests. While in the Brotherhood’s ‘care’, he learned about everything from Hand to hand combat to anti telepathy technology. Two years later he escaped, after stealing Magneto, Pyro, and Sabertooths abilities.
Other Information: Genome gives new meaning to the word chain smoker, but with his mutant ability he can simply cure his own Cancer.
Color used for character: Blue
_____________________________________________________________
User name: Echo of the Firelies
Name: Daniel Joshua Moore
Codename: DJ professor Creeps (Creeps)
Age: 21
Sex: Male
Nationality: American
Power: The ability to control Insects, Arachnids, Reptiles, and small rodents. Creeps can also generate and manipulate sounds, most notably music. This ability allows him to either remove and add sounds as is necessary(create a sound behind a door, or remove the sounds of his own footsteps.)
Alignment: None, is Locke’s best buddy and partner in crime.
Appearance: Only about 5’0” Daniel is small enough to fit in most overhead bins. Wearing a baggy Red sweatshirt and regular blue jeans, as well as a pair of old boots. His grey eyes and brown hair make him hard to remember. This light weight, who weighs only 130 pounds, but don’t let it fool you, he can still head butt you in the groin.
Background: Creeps grew up in an orphanage until he was twelve, that’s when he was adopted by the Moore’s. Though they loved him, he never really loved them back the same way, after high school he left their house and made his ways on the streets. At the age of nineteen, he met Locke, and they became fast friends. Even if they were thieves, its what it took sometimes to survive, and that is all that matters to them at the moment.
Other Information: Daniel has a knack for finding good stuff to steal, most likely because he can communicate with the animals he can control.
Color used for character: Red _____________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________The Quiet Artist:: Hate is Sadness wrapped in razor wire AND TH3 C3RTiiFiiCAT3 R3ADS::
Tobias Nikoli Alexander “Red”
TH3 LiiSC3NS3 CLAiiMS::
Seventeen
TH3 ST0RY 0F MY LiiF3 THAT ii’V3 CR3ATED::
Tobias Nikoli Alexander can be described as… Screw it, I was born in the middle of nowhere Mississippi, I don’t remember it at all but I hear it was pretty there. Some days I’d just prefer to sit under a tree and sketch than talk to people. Oh, did I not mention that? I’m kind of an artist, not that I’m any good. My friends insist that only good artists hate their work, I must be amazing if that’s the case…
I have two loving parents; I guess that’s what I could call them. I don’t feel much attachment to them though, but it’s not their fault. I am an only child, technically; I have a brother but he is fifteen years my senior and lives in Michigan.
Look, I hate talking about myself; so don’t ask me to, it makes me feel awkward. I paint and I Sketch, that’s all there is to me. Other than that I really don’t want to talk about it. My thoughts are mine and mine alone. Just look for the kid with the headphones, that’ll be me. Oh, and they call me Red because my family is from Russia, and I normally wear red… original aye?
TH3R3’S A FiiN3 LiiN3 B3TW33N…
L0V3&::
Painting
Sketching
Ska
Punk
Girls
Rain
Cigerettes
Converse
Sitting in the shade
Chinese Food
Science Fiction
Classic Saterday morning cartoons
Vintage art
Art in general
Sleep
The color Red
&HAT3::
Gas stations that card
Curfews
School
Work
Most people
Being in the dark (information wise)
Too many questions
Hornets (I don't wanna talk about it...)
Cold French Fries
Cold Coffee
BUT iiT’S ALL THANKS T0…::
Echo of the Firelies _____________________________________________________________The Mind-Reader;; The License Reads...;; Serj Grigori Rasputin But You Know I Prefer...;; "Raz"You May Not Know, But I'm Really...;; EighteenI Really Do Adore...;;
smile The color Green
smile Mind Games
smile Card Games
smile Psychology
smile The shade Black
smile Cigarettes
smile Girls
smile Chinese food and Eastern European cuisine
smile Punk/Ska/Metal/Rock
smile Reading
smile My cat, Nostradamus
smile Sarcasm
smile The Rain
smile Skateboarding
smile Sleeping
smile Philosophy
smile Vodka
smile Anarchism
smile Cheesecake
smile Folk Music (though I’ll never admit it)And These Are Not One Of Those Things;;
mad School
mad Work
mad Too many Questions
mad Cold Coffee
mad Curfews
mad Being bored
mad Cold French fries
mad Introverts
mad Pop Culture
mad Television
mad Bad music
mad People who can’t be wrong, ever
mad People who say I "can’t tell what their thinking"
mad Stores that close up ten minutes before their signs say
mad Hornets
mad American drinking laws
mad Anti-Smokers (Mind your own business)
mad Chat speak
mad Texting on Cellphones
mad PoliticiansAll You'll Ever Need To Know;; When did I realize I could read minds? I don’t know; I’ve always been able to tell what people were thinking. I can tell what people want, what they need. What they want to hear. Their fears, hopes, and dreams; I know people better than they know themselves. Their thoughts aren’t out of reach of my minds eye, and I’m not one to deny I use this to my advantage. I use it to cheat when we gamble. My brothers call it luck; I call it the ace up my sleeve.
I like to play games with people, mind games. Manipulation is much easier when you can see people’s thoughts. I know a lot about the human psyche thanks to my mum, she’s a psychologist. My father is a suit, I barely ever see him, save holidays and my birthday. We’re just one big happy Russian family. My four brothers are basically pawns in my game of life. That’s right life is a game to me.
As for how I act, I am manipulative, smart, cunning, and of coarse terribly modest about how absolutely amazing I am. Girls love the fact I know exactly what I want. This gift of mine has given me a large amount of respect from my peers, a lot of people come to me for advice, ironic because most of what they ask they could answer themselves if they just opened their eyes. I think my mother knew I was going to be insightful, which would explain my middle name, Grigori Rasputin was a famous seer in the old country.
I fancy myself an Anarchist; I think we would be better off without a government. I’m not one of those punks who just say they are because they want chaos, an actual informed Anarchist. I think it has to do with my Russian heritage; my Grandpa was a Soviet General. Marx was before his time, Communism was introduced far too early, but enough about my political views.
I want to write a book about the human psyche, perhaps I will some day. But one person has me perplexed, she either thinks nothing or I can’t see into her mind. I must say I am at least curious about what she is thinking, because I can’t see it myself.
Pay No Attention To The Man Behind The Curtain...;; Echo of the Firelies 
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 12:16 am
Vehicles and other things I've Created For Role-plays:
The Segomo
In Celtic mythology, Segomo ( "victor, mighty one" ) was a war god worshipped in Gaul, and possibly in Britain and Ireland. In Roman times he was equated with Mars and Hercules. He may be the same as Cocidius, a similar god worshipped in Britain. He is commonly associated with the eagle or hawk.
The Segomo :
1. Boarding ladder
2. Escape Pod ( Seats 8 ) / Captains Quarters ( sleeps 2 )
3. Main access Corridor
4. Quad-Laser Turret Access Corridor
5. Cockpit Access Corridor
6. Cockpit
7. Refresher ( W.C. )
8. Circuitry Bay
9. Crew Quarters ( Sleeps 6 )
10. Lounge / Mess
11. Cargo Bays
12. Engineering bay ( Sleeps 2 )
13. Boarding Ramp
14. Freight Loading Room
The Segomo is a reproduced YT-1300 with the latest technology available to Admiral Nikolas Rikov. Built five years ago it can outrun, outmaneuver, and outclass any ship in the universe. It is armed with twin Quad laser cannons, and a pair concussion missile launchers. The escape pod has been modified to serve as the captains quarters, the pod can only be launched from inside, and can seat four comfortably, eight if necessary. Outfitted with numerous hidden compartments, this baby could hide a rancor under the nose of an Imperial Officer, okay so that might be exaggerating just a little bit. With its advanced sensor and jamming arrays, the Segomo can basically sneak up on, or escape from, any ship in space.
It was acquired about three years ago from her original captain, ex-Imperial officer Viktor Nikolas Rikov, after he passed away during a firefight. Her new captain, Max Kaiser, saved the ship from a Republic Impound. The drawbacks of the ship are its off center cockpit, which makes it rather difficult for an unskilled pilot to land, and way the ship sticks out, not many people fly two hundred thirty year old freighters.
Craft: YT-1300f Corellian Transport
Type: Light Freighter
Length: 27 Meters
Weapons:
2 Quad Laser Cannons
2 Concussion Missile Launchers
Crew: 4
Passengers: 6
Top Speed: 100 MGLT
Cargo Capacity: 100 Metric Tons( Not counting hidden compartments )
__________________________________________________________________________
The Red Baron
A 1970 Plymouth Road Runner with Based on the General Lee from Dukes of Hazard. The difference being that the cars name is the Red Baron. It has Iron Crosses where the numbers would be, an old WWI German flag instead of the confederate flag on the roof, and the words "Red Baron" where General Lee is.
The Red Baron is the car of choice for my characters. Why? Because It’s sexy!
((More to Come))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 12:17 am
Plot Ideas ((Subject to modification)):The rebirth of the Spartans “Give them nothing, Take from them everything!”
There once was a warrior race, the Spartans, who fiercely fought an innumerable Persian force at the Battle of Thermopylae. To them, dying in battle was the most glorious gift the gods could dote upon them. Against impossible odds, these men battled with the intensity of Ares himself.
It is now the far future; earth is nothing more than a graveyard for the countless outdated war machines and totaled star ships from the various conflicts that sprung up over the centuries. Anyone who’s anyone lives on the Moon, or on Mars, or in the dozens of colony satellites circling Earth. The only things left on earth are the poor, junkyards, and military outposts of the governments living off world. Earth is nothing more than a war zone for the people of space to conduct their wars, but not for much longer.
One day a military base is demolished, then another, then a third. A band of Mobile Frames are decimating any and all military outposts’ planet side. They claim to be the descendants of Hercules himself. Their Frames are monstrous and their ferocity is unmatched in battle. This new generation of warriors have adopted the ways of the Spartans of old. They plan to take their homeland back, by force. Never retreat, never surrender, that is the Spartan way.
A story of Paint and Tears: Trek BallThere is a new game in the world of paintball. It’s called Trek Ball and it is by far the craziest game you’ve ever seen.
 The aim is to get your team from the starting point to the finish point fourteen miles down the road. But to win you need to get the most points, getting to the finish first helps, but taking out enemy players gets you points too. Any number of teams can play this game, the more the better. Whatever equipment you want for the battle you can bring, extra markers, paint mines, and even Paint-Grenade launchers. Anything to further your team, just remember that you have to carry what you bring. Quite a few Trek Ball fields have opened around the country, each with it’s own ‘specialty obstacle,’ get past that and you get extra points.
At the end of each summer the various Trek Ball fields each send one team to the marathon of Trek Ball games. A thirty mile course with just about every type of obstacle and at least five team competing head to head for the Championship. Things could get out of hand.
It’s a Race.
It’s a battle.
It’s Flat-out insane.
You ready?Star Wars: The New ConflictBlack or White, Good or Evil, Light side or Dark side. Is there no in-between? When you last looked in the mirror were you completely good? What about completely evil? Have you never wanted harm to come to someone? Never wanted to just take something and run? Never once thought about what it would be like to smash someone over the head with a chair? Just where do the thoughts end, and the needs begin? Just where is the line separating good and evil, or if there even is a line to begin with. These age old questions have never held so much merit as they does now...
Two centuries after the fall of the Emperor, the Empire and New Republic are at war... again. Both have amassed huge armadas and are sending them head to head constantly. These new hostilities are over newly discovered planets, resources, and superiority in the universe as a whole. The New Republic is on a 'crusade for the people'; but is it really? Since the disappearance of the Jedi things have been unclear. The Empire claims to be 'keeping the Republic in check'; their motives seem closer to the truth. The only confirmable fact is that the two are at war, a huge war, the biggest war since the clone wars...even bigger.
Is there truly a good or evil? This is the story of a crew just making ends meet. Whether that means thieving and smuggling, or an honest job if one arises, anything for survival, for that is the new/old motto of the Universe, “Survival of the fittest.” We follow the misadventures of the crew of the Segomo, a YT-1300 that makes the Falcon look like Bantha droppings, or so says it’s captain. Can you prove your merit and skill, and live to see tomorrow. It’s a whole new ball game, the stakes are higher, life is harder, and if you play your cards right, the pay is better.
Join the adventure, for it’s what you make it. Without heroes, good or evil, there would be no stories to tell…
X-men: GenisisOkay, I don’t have much time so here’s how it is. The name’s Locke, Just your abnormal everyday mutant. Long story short, a war is brewing, mutants vs. humans, as well as mutant vs. mutant. Now the question is, when it starts, where will you be? Will you stand with the X-men? Perhaps the brotherhood is more suited to your tastes. Will you stand with the Morlocks or Reavers? Or will you stand alone, survival of the fittest…
Magneto is more than welcome to his world, but let him do it without my help. He has some good points, the humans do fear us and want us dead. Why else would they create Sentinels? So as long as he stays away from me, whatever he wants is fine.
Xavier is also welcome to ‘Save the humans from themselves. I don’t care, as long as that telepath keeps his mind to himself. I can’t trust a man who can see into my thoughts and see my memories, those are mine.
As for the other subgroups, I really could care less. I just don’t want to have to wear a collar. So its time for me to go, there are things I need to steal before daylight breaks. Hey, just because I don’t stand with any particular group does not make me nice in any way. I will exploit my powers as I see fit. Humans do make the coolest stuff, and if I want it, I’ll take it.
There are many sides to this entire mutant issue. The X-men, the Brotherhood of Mutants, the Humans, the Morlocks and the Reavers, as well as any number of other factions, all of whom play a role in the X-men universe. But what about a much smaller group, a group of mutants who use their powers as they see fit, who do what they always wanted to do. This is the story of the mutants who are not necessarily evil, but who do as they please in a world filled with fear and hatred. Survivalists, whatever it takes to get by. Do you have what it takes to handle the responsibility of your powers? Are you just learning to use them? Or are you ready to exploit them? The choice is yours…
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 12:19 am
 Sample Posts:Anil Sonam Even with the aid of the air currents the trip to Ba Sing Se was still long, not as long as it would have been for anyone other than an Air bender but still took a long while. Soon Anil saw the walls on the horizon and with another burst of air from his feet he sped closer to the city. He banked right, taking a few leisurely laps around the huge metropolis; once he grew bored of acting like a falcon he looked for a fairly abandoned area to land. Anil found a nice roof to land on, with a nice back alley with no sign of life in it, perfect for him to enter the city rather quietly, for an Air Bender… He pushed the nose of his glider down and swooped towards the ground. When he was a meter from the roof he folded his glider up and unsheathed his umbrella, which was made of the same material as his glider and doubled as a wonderful air brake. He skidded to a stop a few centimeters from the edge, a few tile shingles slid off the roof and plummeted to the ground. Next time he’d have to remember so slow down some first... Perched on the roof he pondered how people not of the Air Nomads could possibly get from point A to Point B, it was just so slow to walk. It wasn’t that Anil didn’t enjoy the outdoors, he loved taking long leisurely walks while pondering the meaning of Zen or which tea is the best. It simply struck him as irritating that when Non-air benders had to take a trip, it took weeks, where he could make it across the continent in a few days. With that lovely epiphany passed and out of the way he jumped off the roof and floated like a feather down to the ground. Putting away his umbrella and strapping his staff to his back, Anil headed for the market. He bought himself a nice straw hat to keep the sun out of his eyes, his last one had been lost at sea when he was following a group of Lion tortoises in the Fire Islands. Continuing further into the market the monk found that many of the market stalls he usually bought from making good business, most likely from Anil loving to share his tea with local shop owners. He bought some more of his favorite blends and headed for the nearest tea shop, it was nearly tea time, or at least it was close to a time which was good for tea. Then again that is all the time for the young Air bender. Alright, alright, so maybe he really just wanted an excuse to sit down, drink some tea, and play some Pai-Sho… no need to be a nitpicker about it… Genome Locke walked down the street, it was getting late and he needed to get to his temporary home. Taking out one of his Zippo's, He lit a cigarette. As he took a drag he thought about how amazing it was that he could do this without worrying about an early dead.
But that was his truly amazing ability wasn't it, to modify his own genetic material as he saw fit. The ability to cure his own cancer, by having his white blood cells seek out destroy and find a use for that was left. Its hindrance though, is that he can only do it to himself. So no miracle cures for anyone else, just Locke.
But that was why he was given the codename Genome wasn't it. The brotherhood had found him at a very young age, and experimented on him for 'The good of mutant kind'. They thought his only ability was Changing his genetic makeup, what they didn't know is that after contact of the skin, he could use another mutant's abilities, to an extent.
Even to use his own power took concentration, Mediation allowed him to look inward and solve any internal issues. But also he could add any DNA he had picked up to his collection. But he could only really use a few singular abilities, the strain of controlling too many powers was always there, if he lost control, who knows what could happen. So he had adopted three abilities whilst in the Brotherhood's 'Care'. Pyro's ability to control already created fire, this was his most used ability and so also the one he was most adept with, seeing as he smoked like a chimney and had more than one lighter. Sabertooth's healing; since this was unconscious it was easy to deal with. Finally Magneto's ability to control metal, but he had not the control of years of practice Magneto did. So Locke was confined to controlling already forged metal within a twenty foot radius, he could use this ability on things further away, but the further it gets, the weaker the pull.
Lifting a hand as he reached the door, the deadbolt unlocked and the knob turned, the door swung open. Entering the rundown apartment, Locke tossed his jacket on a hook and headed for the fridge. He grabbed the last piece of pizza out of the box on the bottom rack. He sat down at the table; the TV was still on from this morning. Some garbage about mutants being dangerous, bullocks, it was the humans who created the Sentinels.
"...and now in more local news, the hunt is on for a mutant who broke into some of the warehouses down at pier 31. A guard recounted that it was a boy about 20, with dyed Green hair standing around 5'10". 'He had the power to control metal' says the man "because he turned my own pistol on me and knocked me over the head with it! from ten feet away!" This boy is considered dangerous and should be turned over the the authorities immediately..."
Locke had to laugh; at least he could pass for twenty, even if he was younger. Really, he was 5'11' and eighteen. With bright green hair, and two different colored eyes, one was a dark blue and the other a bright green. Wearing a simple pair of worn jeans and a black sweatshirt with thumbholes cut out, along with his mismatched Chuck Taylor's, he looked a lot like a street rat. And for the most part, Genome was.
The warehouses were perfect places to pick up goods worth selling, in truth Locke was sitting on at least five hundred dollars in cash, which he kept in the brim of his baseball cap for safe keeping. He would have to set out for the Docks again tonight. No doubt this time either the Brotherhood or the X-men would be there to try and collect him. Genome lived by three rules, the first of which was that he did what would keep himself alive first. The second was that he would never pay fore what he didn't have to. And the third and final rule was that if he ever did join one faction or the other, he would keep them in the dark. That's why he didn't trust Professor Xavier at all; he could control people, and that made him more dangerous than any other mutant out there... Connor  If you can't lower Heaven...
...Raise Hell
Looking a Shane, the drummer said what he always said when his bandmates complained “Write a song about it… You can sing about how much everyone hates you and how you're poor…Wait neither of those things are true.” Connor said with a smirk. “I can hear the Drumbeat now …” he started to drum a line on the counter they were standing at.
Diggity daka daka diggity diggity daka daka diggity daka daka digigty diggity daka daka
His emotional detachedness, that and the calming nature of alcohol, somehow just barely prepared him for what came next. They were here, the last people on the face of the earth he ever wanted to see again. his mind ran back to his previous life, and how little he wanted to deal with it. The scowl on his face spoke volumes of how little he was enjoying the girls company. Wait, something was itching at the back of his head. Didn’t they have a band back in the day as well? Since Connor didn’t watch the news, or read the papers, or involve himself in any other sort of method of getting news, he honestly didn’t even realize how famous anyone really was, including himself. All he knew on a daily basis was that Rugby team was playing who, how much money was in his bank account, When the next show was, and that his Accountant and Lawyer were trustworthy and taking care of his fiscal returns.
“Well, I’m here because our manager is trying to change my brooding feral image, thus he requires me to show up to these little powwows. I have to pretend like I care, which I don’t, so I won’t…” Connor was rough around the edges when it came to PR. He liked to drum, not to talk. If he wanted to use his voice he would have been a singer, he talked with his sticks and pedals. He left these people and everything else behind when he moved out here. He needed air, so he went to go get some. “I’ll be outside, if you need me to sign something, forge my signature…”
The Irish-Kiwi nearly knocked the couple walking in over as he heavily walked out of the cafe. This whole thing was a bad Idea, and Connor wanted nothing to do with it. He took out a cigarette and flicked open his Worn Brass Zippo. The sparks flew and the end of the stick glowed red and the calming death filled his lungs. He needed to go see a doctor about stress relieving techniques. A high concentration of stress was exactally what the doctor didn’t order.
Max The battered Segomo floated though the black, it’s once majestic outer surface now sullied with dozens of blaster scars. The exterior and interior lights flickered on and off, as if they couldn’t quite decide whether they wanted to wake up or not.
A coffee mug floated about the Mess as the caffeinated liquid it once held attempted to make an escape. The artificial gravity had been disabled. Maximilian Kaiser hung in limbo just under what used to be his cup of coffee. If he had been conscious at the time, he would have been upset with such a waste of ‘Joe’.
The rear cargo bays had been locked down. The lights decided that it was an ungodly hour and, had they been alive, asked their mother for five more minutes. The generator was still operational, but only pumping out enough power to keep the air filters running. The Segomo was dying, and if Viktor had been alive he would have been heart broken.
Max Opened one eye followed closely by his other. Frowning he clamped his eyes shut again, his head felt like it had been bashed in with a pipe. “Did anyone get the number of that Dreadnaught?” Soon after realizing that he was floating he realized that everything else was too. Some might consider this an obvious thing, but when you just wake up with a terrible headache things take longer to register.
“You awake sailor?” A voice said in his ear. It was seraph, The AI program which Max used when slicing.
“Awake enough to tell you to shut up Seraph. What happened?”
“I don’t think I’ll tell you now…”
“Don’t toy with me Seraph... How bad is the situation?”
“Well emergency power is all that’s keeping this ship alive. The rear cargo bays are closed off; I theorize there is hull breaching. Gravity is malfunctioning and-”
“Why is my coffee floating above my head?”
“Is that really our biggest problem?”
“No…” Chimera  A small boy sits on a swing set. It is late afternoon and the sun is setting. He smiles up at the figure looming over him with a false smile only shown in horror films to scare those faint of heart. This figure is not faint of heart. The boy begins to swing as the figure becomes more substantial, a young man with Green hair and eyes whose colors don’t match. The boy’s eyes share this trait. They continued in silence, awaiting the others words.
“Who are you?” asked the older.
“You.” Responded the younger, having just reached the pinnacle of his swing, he hit that moment of free fall before swinging back and finishing his comment. “Obviously.”
“I realize, but what is your name?”
“What? Don’t you remember who you were?”
“I know who I am now, harbinger of the apocalypse.”
“But who you were eludes you?” Once he reached the peak of his swing again, the boy let fly and landed with a cats grace some twenty feet away. He dusted off his tan shorts and blue shirt. Looking over his shoulder he stared at his older counterpart. “That’s just too bad isn’t it?” A sadistic smile crept across the child’s face as Locke outstretched a hand in protest and was forced from his own daydream.
“No!”
Back in reality, he was standing on the roof of a mid-sized sky scrapper, his book tucked snuggly in his back pocket. His body was vibrating with repressed frustration. Contain it. The drops of water were evaporating before it could touch him. Contain it. The waves of heat grew larger just before an officer of the law quietly opened to roof access door and crept slowly over to his wounded counterpart sitting against the framework of a cell tower. The man was in shock and trying to reattach his own arm, which had been ripped off some ten minutes ago. He was mouthing incoherent words. Contain it. A fireball formed in each of Locke’s hands. Contain it. He threw the Balls at the building across the street.
Down below an old woman was crossing the street, very slowly. A thunderous explosion happened overhead. A large amount of debris was falling towards the earth at an alarming speed. People were screaming, the old woman was deaf. People tried to warn her, she was blind. People Ran for their lives, she continued to slowly cross the street. People died, the old woman did not. A mangled office cubicle landed a foot to her left. She made it across the street and tried to buy a gallon of milk from a cactus. Silly old people.
The officer had left his now dead partner and had his revolver trained on the Kaijuu. What else could summon up the power of an RPG from his fingertips? “Y-you’re under arrest.” The monster slowly turned around, it smirked at the dinky little pistol. The officer began to pull the trigger, but the monster jammed his thumb in front of the hammer, preventing it from firing. His smirk turned into a smile, a very unfriendly and cold smile.
“That is the problem with Revolvers isn’t it? A great amount of firepower and they don’t jam, but if the hammer is blocked…No boom.” Locke Head butted the man and let the gun fire up into the air as to poor man slumped to the floor. “Pathetic, if you falter, you die.” He dragged the unconscious cop to the edge and held him over it like a puppet. Just as he was about to drop him a better thought popped into his head. He threw him back onto the roof and calmly walked towards him, picking the gun up on the way.
“You know what? I think I’m going to let to live. So you can spread the message of the apocalypse to come in the near future. You think you can handle that?”
The man nodded vigorously.
“Oh that’s nice, because I don’t”
He smiled as he pulled the trigger. A gunshot rang out and the man realized that he had been shot in the stomach.
“Run, run as fast as you can... maybe you can make it too the hospital in time…But I doubt it.” The man stumbled to his feet and made for the door. Locke walked back to the edge and sat down. He wanted to see if the man would make it out of the building, a few minutes later he man actually did stumble out, then fell over, and stopped moving.
[Would Be An Understatement] Connor Alexander McMurphy An F-14 Tomcat screeched past the skyline as it chased down a very evasive Mig-29. The pair weaved around the seemingly endless sky-scrapers. If the Tomcat didn’t catch this bogey soon, it was likely that it would do some serious damage to the city. It fired it’s machine-gun, but the Mig took a sharp turn around the sky scraper, the American fighter followed suit. As it rounded the corner the enemy was nowhere to be seen. That is until it swung around the other side of the building and let a missile fly. The F-14 sped skyward. It broke the sound barrier as it ascended, which caused all the windows in the general vicinity to shatter, but for some reason he couldn’t shake the missile. It made contact and the jet’s left wing was gone in an instant. He was falling. He was falling very fast. Various alarms were sounding in the cockpit. The pilot wondered why he didn’t know what half the alarms were. Then came the droll beeping that he knew very well, but he couldn’t place it. Beep Beep Beep Beep… Connor rolled over and slapped the sleep button on his alarm. No more Tom Cruise movies before bed. There was no way he was getting up just yet. He pulled the covers up so only his messy bright red hair stuck out. Why on earth was he getting up so early anyway? Someone pounded on his door. He covered his head with the pillow to muffle the noise. “Connor, get your lazy rear out of bed this instant or you’ll be late for school.” Oh right, School. The realization hit him slowly; he had to get to school. He sat up and jumped out of bed. Connor put on the jeans we had been wearing yesterday; the ones that still had his keys and wallet in them. He found a shirt on his floor that seemed clean and tossed it over his head. The Sailor Jerry Converse sneakers he liked to wear were proving difficult to put on this morning, most likely due to his rush. Running to the bathroom, he quickly brushed his teeth before sliding down the banister and jogging into the kitchen. He grabbed his book bag, his skateboard, and the pop-tarts his sister had made for herself before dashing out the front door. He jumped on his board and rode it down the hill away from his sibling’s death threats. Strawberry, totally worth it… Tobias Lynx Sergeant Tobias Lynx had made dozens of “hot drops” throughout his service career. He was more than used to being deployed into the middle of a conflict, but fighting the covenant was an entirely different bvendeavor. Lynx was used to quelling rebellions on the frontier, not fighting a far superior military force. Not to say that he was scared by any means, he’d fought these bottom feeders for years, and they hadn’t killed him yet. As his Drop pod entered atmo, he reviewed his mission data. Rendezvous with Delta Squad and retrieve the A.I. from Harvest’s Main Vehicle Production plant, if the covenant got their hands on that A.I. they’d have schematics on all UNSC vehicles and the shipping routes to all the inner colonies, maybe even earth. Someone messed up and didn’t wipe the files, or maybe someone didn’t get the chance… didn’t matter now. A red warning light came on. With a crash he landed in the middle of a devastated city. The pod popped open and Tobias Crawled out. The sergeants armor was black, but the visor was gold, he gathered his supplies, a pair of SMG’s, a shotgun, and his silenced battle rifle. The Heads up display on his helmet showed that his team was in the area… somewhere. He abandoned his pod and made his way down the street, in the shadows, towards the rally point. At the end of the street he noticed an over turned Warthog. He ran towards it and slid into cover behind it. There were several marine bodies strewn about the street, as well as the wreckage of a number of UNSC vehicles. “Anyone alive here?” Lynx said as he cocked his rifle. His voice sounded almost metallic through the speaker of his helmet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 12:20 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
