Sunday, October 4, 2009
MSotD- Rammstein- Rosenrot
I stopped listening to Oldies That I Associate With Various Nice Things, and started listening to Rammstein. Ah, being a teenager.
Heh, these MSotD updates are a hell of a lot easier to churn out than actual blog posts.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Musical Selection of the day-Queens of the Stone Age-Misfit Love(live)
Let's Play-DFO
Friday, September 18, 2009
MSotD- Vera Lynn- We'll Meet Again
The song itself is pretty good I guess, but the reason why I love it is because I mentally associate it with Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. As you can see from the clip, it is the best way to end a movie ever.
Old songs synced to footage of nuclear explosions is great. I harbor a strange love for the combination and you should too.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
The only sport that might be better than boxing
CHESS BOXING.
Yes, O my brothers. Chess boxing combines the nerdiness and quiet thinking of chess with the awesomeness and fisticuffs of boxing to create a sport that was never meant to be.
Here we have Sebastien "Sergeant" Aubriot versus David "Kampfmaschine" Steppler, who may or may not be related to Von Kaiser somehow.
TL;DW version: French guy defeats German guy. Improbable, yes, I know, but this is chess boxing. It goes beyond the boundaries of sanity and national stereotypes.
So yeah. This is clearly a big step towards Playing Tennis With Dynamite While Riding Bears and that is good. You might think pure boxing is better, Delgado. Then again you're the sort of guy who watches dudes in shorts punch each other, and then you complain because they don't have enough... finesse. Surely including the strategy, deep thought, and snobbishness of chess is way more than enough finesse for you.
MSotD- Dropkick Murphys - Johnny I Hardly Knew Ya
Johnny did not come marching home again because he lost all his limbs in the war.
I promise the next musical selection will have nothing to do with war at all.
France is a nice place.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Vagabond.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Valuev the giant.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Magnum Farce
"Hey do you want me to buy you some DVDs? They are on sale."
"Nein, mother, I will pay with my own monies like a respectable teenager."
"Too bad, I'm going to buy you a DVD anyway. Just to spite you."
"Uh."
"Do you want Magnum Force or not?"
"Lalo Schifrin did the theme music."
"Well?"
"Uh. I heard about it on the Internet. But now that you mention it, I kinda want to watch Ghostbusters 2 more."
"Too bad."
"What, mother."
"What is Magnum Force's rating, anyway?"
"Uh, R. R for... respectable."
"Do people make out in this movie?"
"How should I know, I've never seen it."
"Look, stop saying that you'll buy things with your own money. I am going to pay for this and every other thing you want forever."
"No no no no no mum. That's embarassin. I don't even want to watch Magnum Force anymore. You killed it."
"Young lady, we are going right back to the DVD racks and we are going to select Magnum Force and we are going to watch it."
"Neeein!"
Friday, August 28, 2009
MSotD- Наутилус Помпилиус: Хлоп - Хлоп
Music selection of the day. Nautilus Pompilius sings a catchy song about being a cog in the war machine. Or something.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Music selection of the day
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Who knew Hitler was hilarious?
Friday, August 14, 2009
More updates due to hardcoreness.
"So...Andy. You don't think this will end badly, do you?"
He was silent.
"I understand if you don't want to discuss this at the moment, but you can't just push it to the back of your mind."
He thought about it. Swirling the milk with his index finger.
"Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should just pack up all my things and run away. Or maybe I should take nothing and just leave. Just walk till I can't walk anymore and drop dead."
She nodded.
"Do you think that will solve your problems?"
"I wouldn't have to worry about people trying to manipulate me or control me. I would be free."
"No, you'd be dead."
"Maybe being dead is better then being controlled."
She sighed. She took the batter and poured it into a cake pan.
"The only thing that's holding you back is your attitude. And you know that."
Andy took a sip of milk. The ice had melted, watering the milk down. It didn't taste right.
"I wish I had never gotten into this. Maybe I could have been normal. Or accepted. Maybe I'd be at some...college somewhere, having fun. I don't even understand what it means to be normal. How....pathetic is that?"
"Baby, you know that's all nonsense. What's gotten into to make you think like this? Maybe you need a girl friend or something."
"But I'm not normal. I'm not even human. I'm a commodity. I'm...just profit...I have no real..footing in reality...I can't...I can't even..."
He began to cry. Streaming tears that embodied his distraught inner psyche. His mother rubbed his back.
"One day, you're gonna get rid of all these demons. And you'll see how beautiful of a person you really are. One day baby...one day..."
They cried together."
Virtuoso's Ultimatum is a piece written by Salza. It essentially follows the paths of Rayn Veritas and Axl Burose and their connections to the Auditor. In all honest, I can't explain the intricacies of the plot and the meaning behind the story, but I can tell you that it is beautifully written. On the old Wakfu Forums, Sal and myself were the most prominent writers, and I guessed that on the inside I always considered us to be rivals of sort. He's defintely surpassed me with this one, though. READ IT.
"There is something about Amakna at eventide’s awakening that really inspires something within you. A feeling of... fear... something foreboding. Everything begins to stand still, and the darkness becomes obscure. The wolf does not prowl at night seeking for the lamb, for the revulsion of death becomes wary even in the predator. There is something mischievous about it that keeps everyone on their tip-toes, and as I tread on this dreaded path, I do not hesitate to imagine the epitome of the Auditor, lurking within this town. There lie a shutter to the right, clasping to the wall of someone’s home; an overhang to the left, with fresh rainwater dripping tenderly into a bucket that some bloke must’ve conveniently left there. With each step, muddy dirt from the track clung to the soles of my boots; an annoyance at best. The whisper of the Shadowkeeper in the ears of the Soothsayer, I seek to silence his twisted tongue. The distortion between the border of light and darkness was being manipulated, and I seek to bring verity to that which the citizens of Amakna saw a bogus actuality.
The mischievous whispers led me to a small Amaknian cottage littered with holes in the walls and roof. A rusted iron gate led me down a path of death and decay as I felt a presence that had traveled this walkway before. I pushed open the decrepit wooden panel of the door, listening to the eerie creak it stirred up as I pushed my way in. Things were far too silent to be of the norm. Step by step, the presence of darkness intensified. An evil unlike any other, lingered in the irrigous atmosphere, almost making it difficult to breathe. As I approached the end of the hallway, the darkness at the end of a tunnel blinded by light, the disparity, the malignance reached a focal point, and I knew behind this door, stood the malevolence which was the Auditor. I pushed the door open, and at the sinister zenith of which had even made me aflutter, to my utmost bewilderment, there was only but a child in the room.
I knew he had been here. I felt it in the aura that was left behind. This mere child had laid eyes on the nefarious Auditor without his life force vacuumed from his small husk. He had something that I knew would aide me one day in the future, so I parted him with a small trinket to show me if he ever found me again; the day in which the tunnel of blinding light has become a field of darkness, and the witching hour becomes the twilight which shrouds us all in darkness. I left him with a special shard, which holds at its center a powerful luminosity unlike any other.
One day, he will help defeat them."
I AM SO HARDCORE
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
JENKEES
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Update because fml.
Why is Kirk climbing a mountain? He's Kirk, why the fuck not.
Update 3: The people at DF forums thingy hate Dakk's blog. I looool irl. Comeuppance is eventual, always.
Update 44444: Studio Cold Star is actually being active and not being lazy bums as usual. The big thing now is the competiton for worst story ever, which is harder and a lot more fun then you'd think. Sign up to the forum if you haven't already and reaaad.
Update 5: Trick question, there is no fifth update
Update 6: Update 5 was not a trick question, so wtf am I talking about.
Update 7: I'm out. Screw you.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Magical blog regeneration
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Good bye, MJ.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
TES Ep. 2- How to be a Writer
-My mother
Thank you, mother dearest. For your information, I don't even do commissions anymore. I was once forced to write some Mary Sue love story for this one chick, and I'm still recovering from the mental trauma.
Ahem.
This brings me to today's episode of The Educational Show. Today, we will be learning about writing.
Writing is a highly dangerous process undertaken by only the most skilled professionals. To become a writer, people must go on a long and difficult quest to find the Seven Sacred Symbolic Stones of Skill, and bring them all to a hidden cave in the Himalayas. Only then will they be granted the mystical ability to put words on paper. (Even so, 90% of all written materials are shit. Including this blog entry.)
MAGICAL JOURNEY WALKTHROUGH
Here are the locations of the seven stones:
Red- Latitude 55.014586; Longitude 159.169922. Just walk right in and get it, but please don't touch anything else.
Orange- Go to Canada. Ask for Abdullahi. Don't worry, everyone in Canada knows each other.
Yellow- Latitude -24.657668; Longitude -69.697266. Bring a shovel.
Green- Stuttgart, Germany. 910, 02, 328. You know what to do.
Blue- 38°53'23"N , 77°00'27"W. Ask for Elijah. The password is 'swordfish'.
Indigo- Madagascar's largest seaport. Third door on the right. Knock 'SOS' before entering.
Violet- Osaka, Japan. Wear a toilet seat around your neck while constantly humming the Jeopardy theme, that's how they'll recognize you.
The cave is at -16.344036; 93.339844. After placing the stones into the corresponding slots in the wall, two doors will be revealed. These doors have two guards, one who always lies and one who always tells the truth. Just take the door on the left.
You should come to a room empty except for a raised square platform, a clockwork robot, and a chessboard. To advance, you have to beat the robot at boxing.
Now, you're almost there. There will be a glowing golden quill on a pedestal. Don't touch it. It's a trap. Instead, look for a chewed-on pencil nub lying on the floor behind the pedestal. This is the true source of writer powers. Take it, it's yours. And be ready to outrun a giant rolling stone ball, some swinging axe blades, and several arrow traps on your way out. Just after you escape, the entire cave should self-destruct. Don't worry, it'll reset for the next guy who wants to be a writer.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Bawksin
Hans von Hozel
Why, you ask? Gentlemen, I present you his works:
LINK
There's something for everyone. Here are some examples.
---
House
One day, House was walk into his House.
"It is good to have House House!" say House, as he walk into House House.
Suddenly, the door on House House opened and Time Paradox flew out!
"YOU CANNOT HAVE HOUSE INSIDE HOUSE!!!!!" scream Time Paradox, as a paradox many times.
"But is House House!" say House.
"IT IS NO MORE FOR HOUSE HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!" say Time Paradox, as the House disconnects from the floor and flys into Time Paradox.
And no more House House.
"But my House House!!!" say House, as a not House House.
But Time Paradox would not return House House.
"I cannot return House House without a make Paradox!" say Time Paradox.
House was annoy at this, and jumped into the Time Paradox, to get back House House.
"HOUSE HOUSE!" shout House, but there were no House House inside Time Paradox.
"I have turned House House to bricks..." say Time Paradox, and Time Paradox closed and House was stuck inside Time Paradox forever.
---The Accidental Virus
Gordon Freeman made a standing inside Science Office.
Many science were littered across the room.
Suddenly, Gordon made discovery of something strange in his Science Readings!
"I THINK YOU SHOULD COME AND MAKE SEE THIS!!!" shout Gordon to the corridor..., but no one replied.
Gordon looked down at the Bacterias on his plate.
Suddenly, the bacteria flew off Plate!
"YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT TOP ON PLATE!" shout Bacteria, "NOW WE INFECT THE WORLD!!!!!!"
The Bacteria began to danube and multiply, and soon the whole room was full Bacteria.
"OH NO!!" screamed Gordon, as he forgot to shut the window curtains and bacteria OUT THE WINDOW!!!!!
The Police had installed a camera into Gordon's Science Lab, and saw this with their film.
Suddenly, the Police jumped into the room.
"You have release VIRUS!" scream Police, and the put a capture on Gordon and send him to jail.
"BUT THE HALF LIFE!!!!" screamed Gordon!, as he made a sending to jail and bacteria disolves the lab.
---World of Warcraft
In the futures, people were run out of Internet, so they had to make ration of internet!
But on day, all the nerds went to the internet maschine, to make a stealing from the internet so they could make a play World of Warcraft all the time!
The police heard of their crimes with their megaphone.
The nerds went back to their computers and made a playing on warcrafts.
They wore many goggles and made that Star Trek sign with their hands at each other.
Suddenly, the police burst into the rom.
"YOU SHALL NOT MAKE A STEALING FROM THE INTERNET!" yell police, and they make a shooting at the nerds.
"You shall no shoot us!" they make a shouting, and they hide behind the internet.
The police bullets shot the internet!
"BUT THIS WAS THE LAST INTERNETS WE HAD!!!!!!!!!!" scream police, and the internet exploded and no more internets.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Play Armored Core 4 Answer, and I'll give you mine
So, I've been playing Armored Core 4Answer recently. I've also managed to beat the game once, and get to see one of the many endings of the game, aptly titled Ending A. So, why don't I tell you how the game was, eh? You're here anyway, might as well plug one of my favorite games.
Well, where do I start? Armored Core 4Answer is a great game, and it's kept me busier than almost anything else in my XBox 360 games library, excepting Tales of Vesperia, which stopped once I hit the brick wall known as Gauche and Droite. Anyway, I digress. Armored Core is certainly a series that is worth your time, and this game in particular does not fail to deliver.
I must admit, there were tense points in the game for me, points where I beleived I simply could not win. Like the fight with the Armored Core pictured above, White Glint. But I get ahead of myself. First I need to give a little bit of exposition about what exactly Armored Core is, 4Answer in particular.
Armored Core is a series of games revolving around the usage of the titular Armored Cores, giant robots that are used as mercenaries. In each game, you play as one of these mercenaries, piloting your own AC. In Armored Core 4Answer, you play as one of these mercenaries, someone who takes jobs (at first) from the pseudo-government, The League.
That being said, as the game goes on, you are given the opportunity to take missions from people other than the League, and the morality of the game is slowly revealed to be more gray than I'd thought. Nobody is truly good in this game, but damn, you'd be surprised at how many people will kill thousands upon thousands of innocents in the name of freedom. Good thing there are no 15 year old kids with blue hair, or else I'd be very suspicious.
Well, that's all I can post for now. I'll post later when I've played the game more.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
My Brute - Throwin' it all down.
MyBrute is a site devoted to a browser based game where you randomly create a brute and pit it against other brutes in a devastating one-on-one brawl. Your character from appearance (although there is some customization after you've typed out your name) to skills, to attributes, to health, to items, to growth; are completely randomized upon creation. There are some overpowered items (i.e. Flail) and pets (i.e. Bear) that some people have the patience to recreate their characters until they obtain one. The game is very simple, as you cannot control your brute during fights. Just click your opponent's name to fight them. You get to fight in the Arena 3 times a day (6 times upon initial creation), gain 2 experience per victory, and 1 experience for defeat. Pupil system is accounted for that if you challenge a brute they will take you in as a pupil and gain a small bit of XP. Rumor says you can get some nifty traits by having a good master as well. This game is eerily addicting, by the way! Below is a list of a few brutes that our fellow friends and bloggers have made. Got one? Comment with it and I'll edit this blog post with your brute. Help out your friends by pupiling! :D
Sal's Brute - Datoom
Saber's Brute - DarkSaberKnight
Dakk's Brute - UberDakk
Daft's Brute - Orwell1984
Jax' Brute - Concrete Junglist
- S
Underachiever.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Sonic's dead
Saturday, June 13, 2009
SCHOOL
School's out, finally
My school sucked. The people there were okay, but I didn't have any close friends. Well, I had one, but she recently revealed that she had secretly hated me all along and apparently only hung out with me to be needlessly cruel. She could have left at any time. I told her every day. But I digress.
School was hell because of my classes. I failed math. My parents are engineers and I failed math. I tried so hard and I studied so much and I failed. And eventually the report card will arrive and I will beg my parents to look at my outstanding performance in, what, gym? I'm not exactly known for my intelligence. And after yelling at me for several days, my parents will scoff and tell me that it was impossible for me to fail math because I am their child and must therefore possess crazy math skillz. I think I'm adopted, it would explain so much. I failed, and now I'll never go to West Point. Not that I wanted to. It was my parents' idea. Can you see me leading *anything* without something terrible happening? I thought not. But I digress again.
School was like being hit over the head repeatedly while the disembodied voice of your father tells you how much you suck. I'm glad I got out of school in time, another month and I might have gone insane.
We've got teeth, we'll bite right back
I liken nostalgia to a shirt you don't like, or one you don't fit into. When you first get it, you don't really like it, and you can't wear it anyway. But as the years go by, you suddenly find yourself having never worn the shirt, and now it's too small for you to fit into. When you try to put it on, you realize that you can't, and you feel sad, knowing that you never got a chance to wear the shirt, even though you hated it.
What I mean to get at is simple. Just let go of the past. Who cares if you didn't accomplish everything you wanted to? There's still tomorrow. Regretting your choices is a waste of time. The only time that you won't be able to change your life is when you're in the grave, so keep moving. It isn't over until the fat lady sings, etc. etc.
Continuing the topic of school... nostalgia bites back.
But... I still think everyone should go to school. There's a an old saying that goes around:
"You don't really appreciate what you have until it's gone."
And I damn straight agree with that quote in every way possible. It applies in every single situation in every single event. Another saying goes that your high school years are the best years of your life. I'll tell you now that I enjoyed my high school years, and that I could honestly say that I lived those years out like every day was my last.
But it'd be an understatement to say that I miss school. I regret not taking the 110% jubilant feeling I got from hanging out with friends or playing sports or even the silly business that went around during class and I regret not making it 200%. Now I sit every day in the reality aftermath, where you can't walk down the hallways to a gathering of your friends making jokes and laughing, where you can't joke around in a classroom with your classmates, where you can't go after school and say to yourself, "Alright, another fun day of volleyball with my team today!"
Because when I look back, nostalgia really bites back.
- Class of '08
Friday, June 12, 2009
In thanks for the end of today
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Salazar +1 Bombcat
Yep... that's me in a nutshell. I'm Sal, the original founder of Studio Cold Star and the mastermind behind the plot which somehow congregated all these people together and led to the creation of this blog while my back was turned.
Damn you, you anarchists. Overthrowing my dic--... tatorship.
... +1 Wit
Anyways, I don't have much about me to share. I'm a writer much like our good friend Delgado... although I'm not nearly as good as him at expressing words in a cool way.
... but what I can offer is Bombcat.
But, that's all for now!
ZAAAAAAAAALGO!
LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVER BLOW
Hajime No Ippo captures the very spirit of boxing. Both ends of the spectrum are displayed here, with boxers that range from genius technicians to ring weary journeymen with no hope of winning a title, to dirty fighters with no regard to the rules. The vast is colorful and varied, and each of them are so developed, that the story could easily follow them in their struggle to the top.
But the story revolves around one dude, Ippo Makunouchi.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Twilight is actually My Immortal
But I digress. Anyway, fast forward two years. After tripping over a sandbag and banging my head on a poorly-placed metal pole, I had another of my head-injury-induced revelations: People were still reading Twilight. I decided that maybe it was actually rather good, and I should try it. I go to the library, check out Twilight, and neglect my maths homework to better immerse myself in the plot.
As it turns out, there isn't a plot. Well, there probably is, but it's like continental drift. It's happening, sure, but too slow for a casual observer to perceive. Reading this book made me realize why I do not read books set in high schools. Your average high school is fucking boring and I've already nearly gone insane trying to cope with my own high school problems, danke.
Even I don't bitch as much as Bella does. She's impossible to please, evidently:
"Waaah, what if they don't liiike meee" *several guys start kissing up to her* "Waaah, they're liiiking meee"
And I totally knew Edgar Sullen was a vampire. I mean, the back cover of the book kinda spoiled it. So for the first, what, one-third of the book it's just me yelling "seriously c'mon man... i mean woman... c'mon bitch, figure out that he's a vampire already so we can move on." Only, I said this in my mind, but really loudly. So I was yelling. In my mind.
And then she eventually gets it and they have a shitload of tension and there are some other people but they aren't important. And there's a subplot where there's this other vampire who is after Bella for some reason and the Magical Vampire Family have to go bail her ass out after she does something stupid. I was actually looking forward to a Climatic Vampire Fight, but we don't even get to see that. Dammit. Whatever, the main plot was just the couple talking while slowly being Strangled by the Red String.
Anyway, it was... not good. But I must admit, I probably shouldn't criticize because I'm not even in the target audience. Okay, well, the target audience is teen girls and I am a teen girl. Never mind. I guess I'm still not in the target audience because presumably this is for hopeless romantics. Whatever, the entire genre was invented for Victorian-era fancy repressed women who knew about the smut cleverly disguised as vampire novels. And today we have repressed teen girls who are apparently into necrophilia. The Twilight couple don't even have sex until, I dunno, one of the way-too-many sequels. I just know from the Internet, I haven't actually bothered to read the rest of the books.
Also, vampires are like the Mary Sues of the zombie world.
TLDR; do not read Twilight. Unless you are a hopelessly romantic teen girl with a zombie fetish. Then I can't help you there.
Prototype is a very good game
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
A New Cast Member
In addition to the comic I am going to be working on with Jax, there is another project that I'm currently working on. I won't disclose any information about it now, considering it's not that far into development and I am still unsure as to whether I will go anywhere with it, but if I do, you guys will hear of it.
Also, the game design blog I was planning to make with a friend is experiencing some difficulties. That is, we lack a name. So, if anyone wants to recommend a name we could go by, I'd take it into consideration. Names aren't necessarily my strong suit, and I won't attempt to go with a name that's mediocre.
Well there you go. Now I'll let Heal Mack speak for himself. Give him a warm welcome.
TES Ep. 1- Doctors
Today we will be learning about doctors and their terrible secrets.
Doctors, as you may know, come in a wide variety of shapes, ranging from 'condescending old guy' to 'condescending tiny woman with massive hair' to 'condescending androgynous blob'. However, there is one thing that all doctors have in common, and that is their hair. Combovers, regardless of whether the doctor in question is balding, are an essential part of the medical uniform.
Do you know why this is so, boys and girls? What makes a normal person turn into an overworked physician with a lab coat and a combover? Of course, it is because a combover is actually a parasite that attaches to the heads of particularly egomaniacal interns.
It gives the host the ability to perform minor healing-type miracles simply by staring intently at patients over the rims of their glasses. However, this power comes at a price. With every person cured, the host must pay for the deed with their own health. Other side effects include accelerated aging and gradual loss of your soul. The average life expectancy is twenty years after a person becomes a doctor-- in the end, the host's increasing frail body burns itself out in a heroic sacrifice: it performs one last great work of healing and crumbles into dust. The combover brain parasite moves on to the next intern in line. This is how they get promoted.
There is a second type of doctor, the type that has gained the title through a PhD. This type is usually looked down upon by physicians as they are not Real Doctors. This type enjoys watching movies just so they can point out the flawed physics in the actiony sequences.
I went to My Doctor the other day. My mother was concerned because I was not nearly as big and/or strong as she had hoped, even though she married a tiny wimpy bishonen of a guy. With genes this crappy, it's no wonder I'm not taller (it was also her fault I am not strong, because she didn't let me lift weights). So, facepalming the entire way, I was dragged to My Doctor. She offered to give me injections of growth hormone. This made my mother quite happy. But then My Doctor said, 'olol just kidding, those cause leukemia.' My Doctor is kind of a jerk and now my mother is sad. Shame on you, My Doctor.
Hammer invasion
A bunch of hammer time rejects raiding a fey tight pants hipster store and doing the routine to a corny ass song? Fuck yea!
This is the type of thing we all need to aspire to.
Tomorrow I'm going to congregate at the nearest Christian church to my house, wearing a red devil suit and a picture of a dead kitty on the chest part.
Start of a revolution, dears.
No shit boss
Monday, June 8, 2009
Cool guys write
"He felt no remorse. Not because he was devoid of feeling or rationality, but because he was merely doing his job. Just as a taxman felt no remorse for taking a destitute mother's last penny, just as a judge felt no remorse for sending a man to to his death, Dance felt no remorse for slitting his target's throat. It was merely a job.
Dance didn't know the man, but even if he did, it wouldn't have made much difference. He had no room in his heart or mind for exceptions. Whoever he was hired to kill would die without fail.
He released the flailing Enutrof the the floor, his life force quickly seeping from him. He tried to rise to his knees, but Dance forced him back to the ground with his boot. He held him there and watched him squirm. It reminded him of a larvae. Constantly writhing. Totally pathetic. The Enutrof had finally stopped moving.
Dance sheathed his dagger. He snuck out the way he came, though the Enutrof's back window. It was pitch black outside, a little more then half past midnight. The street was devoid of life, save for a small piwi that was up way past its bedtime. He walked up the street quickly and quietly as a cool breeze slowly swept past him. As he made it to the corner, he heard a high pitched scream. The missus stumbling upon the remains of her lifeless husband. A widow was born that night. Dance tugged on his hood as the chill of the wind intensified."
(Hezlem shakes his head.)
Hezlem: Quiet today. Not a single carriage or merchant to come through.
Forthworth: And this is supposed to be a busy road! Load of shit if you ask me.
Hezlem: No one did, so quit whining and wait.
(Kev pulls a small knife out of his pocket and pokes the ground with it.)
Kev: How do you think it’ll be before we got caught?
Hezlem: What!? Don’t say tripe like that!
Forthworth: Yea, you’ll jinx us!
(Kev shrugs his shoulders)
Kev: It’s a foregone conclusion. All criminals get caught eventually.
Hezlem: But we are not common crooks! We are proper thieves.
Calwort: Proper as a queen.
Forthworth: Damn right!
Hezlem: Will you stop yelling you miserable lout?
(Forthworth gives Hezlem the finger)
Hezlem: Oh, clever.
Forthworth: Fuck off…
Calwort: Shh, I think I hear something.
(A merchant carriage draws near, flanked by two swordsmen. Hezlem and his men get ready to strike. When the carriage comes near the bushes, they jump out and stop the carriage)
Hezlem: Alright sweeties, give up the valuables and nobody loses their head.
(The merchant jumps out the carriage, bewildered)
Merchant: Oh no, bandits!
Swordsman 1:We’ll handle this! Nothing more then common scum.
(battle begins. I’m assuming this will be the tutorial battle of sorts, should be easy. For reference, Hezlem is a standard swordfighter, one handed blade, Kev uses daggers, Calwort uses alchemy, and Forthworth is a brute who fights with an axe)
(Merchant is frightened)
Merchant: P-p-please don’t hurt me! Take it all! Take it!
Hezlem: That is the plan….load up gentlemen, we don’t have time for sight seeing.
(Calwort, Kev, and Forthworth began to pick all the items that are in the merchant carriage: A good sum of gold, starter cash, some low level weaponry maybe, and a few potions or whatever you use to restore health)
Forthworth: This carriage is pretty spare, dontcha think?
Calwort: Money is money, no matter how meager the amount. Innit that right Kev-O?
Kev: I guess.
Hezlem: Alright gentlemen, lets be on our way, lest the old man soils himself…
Calwort: And I suppose you’ll be carrying your massive ego and nothing else?
Hezlem: That’s the plan.
Calwort: Lazy tosser….
"Really?"
"Yay, really. You skip school like, every fucking day. You smoke pot like it's a part of your religion. And worst of all, you've got no future. What the point?"
Aya took a pull from her joint before laughing in Jason's face. She smiled.
"You think you know everything. You're just an old dude with a crappy restaurant. And a horrible haircut.".
They were sitting in front of Jason's diner, an old, creaking burger joint that had been there since the 60s. It was 12 after 12 in the afternoon, and the overcast sky bore an omen of heavy rain. Aya took another pull.
"You gotta get your shit together," Jason continued, ignoring everything she said. "Stay in school, that's the only way you can get a decent job nowadays."
Aya laughed again.
"Come on! You sound like my principal, and he is such a tool!"
"Dammit, I'm serious here! You can't just waste your life on weed. You're smart. You know better."
Aya sucked her teeth before rising to her feet.
"You're all preachy today. Blowing my high and shit...wait. If you don't want me to smoke weed, why do you sell it to me?"
Jason shrugged.
"Business is slow."
"You dick," said Aya as she walked away.
"Remember what I told you!" called Jason.
"Whatever..."
Aya's life had no structure. She had no authority figures in her life. She did as she pleased, and in her mind, no one had the right to tell her otherwise.