Messages

1676

Roleplay / Re: RPM Fortress - The Roleplay

« on: November 12, 2009, 05:07:47 PM »

"Care to show me?"

1677

Roleplay / Re: RPM Fortress - The Roleplay

« on: November 12, 2009, 05:01:57 PM »

"Aw, don't be such a sour old git," said Lucky, taking the mask off. He put a popsicle stick into his mouth and twirled his gun on his finger. "So, I heard we've got newbies on the team."

1678

Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Nick Z. Rythm

« on: November 12, 2009, 04:45:12 PM »

Close, but no cigar. Anyone else care to take a shot at it?

1679

Fan Creations / Re: Not relevant to your interests

« on: November 12, 2009, 03:41:04 PM »

Ooh, shiny animation. I'm impressed!

1680

Off The Wall / Re: Birthday Thread~

« on: November 12, 2009, 02:29:07 PM »

Then happy 19th birthday to you, Blue person. Enjoy.

1681

Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Nick Z. Rythm

« on: November 12, 2009, 02:26:45 PM »

The following is another attempt at writing surreal poetry. Inspired by listening to The Beatles' "Revolution 9" (which, by the way, I would not reccomend listening to late at night). But I digress.

F.I.R.E.

(click to show/hide)

Feed me
Feed me
Feed me
Feed me

Fire! Fire!
Fire! Fire!

Heal me
Heal me
Heal me
Heal me

Fire! Fire!
In
The
Sky
Fire! Fire!
On
The
Floor

Toasty toasty toast
Mmmmm, I'd like some
Yeah
Yeah
Galahad's mighty sternum
He drinks my tomatoes
Through a straw
Yeah
Yeah
Through a straw

Think I'm gonna understand
How you ate my avacado dreams
Eventually, I'll get it
Right now, I got it
Everybody loves Galahad's mighty sternum

Fire! Fire!
In
The
Water
Fire! Fire!
Below
The
Ice

Inky dreams
Slippery streams
Nobody catches my prawns
Oh, baby, gimme some toast

Fire! Fire!
Fire! Fire!

Many a man has told me
Extremely cold carrots
Alleviate the dog's ennui
Nice, mmmm, nice toast
I'd like to have your toast
None of Galahad's men
Green is like blue in disguise

Ice? Ice?
Ice? Ice?

Tomatoes in the straw
Oh, spread some on the toast
Try some of my avacado dreams
Hell is where the Devil plays a six-string
In his lemon-flavoured boots
Sincerely, Galahad's mighty sternum

Thunder thunder thunder thunder
Thunder thunder thunder thunder

Please, if you're reading this
Oh, don't feed the dog my trumpet
Especially if he's feeling bored
Make sure he eats extremely cold carrots

Fire! Fire!
Fire! Fire

Mmmmmm, oh, yeah, baby
Toast is on fire!

I will personally write a poem/song/short story for the person who can determine the meaning of this poem. Anything they want, of their choice. Unless, of course, nobody can figure it out.

But let me point this out: I'd like evidence or reasoning to support your interpretation. Don't just say, "It's about...ducks", for example. Tell me why you think it's about...ducks. Explain where that reasoning comes from and why you think the lyrics refer to...ducks. If you just say it's about...ducks, and don't say why, I won't give you squat. Read the lyrics very carefully. M'kay? M'kay. Cool.

To be a little more fair, I'll give a bit of help by eliminating some possibilities: it's not about drugs, hallucinations, dreams (not even avacado dreams), childhood memories, philosophy, or...ducks.

Enjoy.

1682

Off The Wall / Re: See ya later!/Welcome back!

« on: November 12, 2009, 12:45:58 PM »

(I want "Best Avatar", dammnit).

I shall vote for you if you vote for me for...

Something.

I don't know.

Welcome back, Irg! Have a sno-cone!

1683

Roleplay / Re: RPM Fortress - The Roleplay

« on: November 12, 2009, 12:24:09 PM »

Lucky deactivated his camoflauge and took off the Engineer mask.

"Yeah, it's just me. Got ya pretty good though, didn't I? Hey, check this out." He put the mask back on and started waving his arms in front of DEII. "Blah blah blah, I'm an old person! Blah blah blah, I make things! Ooooh, things cost more than they used to! My hip hurts!"

1684

Forum Games / Re: "What Are You Thinking Now?"

« on: November 12, 2009, 01:09:05 AM »

I'm determined to continue my Esper story and make it interesting and exciting for the readers. I hope I succeed in that regard...!

1685

Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Nick Z. Rythm

« on: November 12, 2009, 01:03:14 AM »

(click to show/hide)

I come back down the stairs, having unlocked the door, with The Magician floating beside me. I'm still a tad shocked, but I don't say anything to him.

"Can you do me a favour?" I ask him when we're at the kitchen door.

"Certainly."

I sort of sigh. "Try not to be seen, okay? I don't want my parents freaking out or anything."

"Don't worry," he says, "Only those who possess an Esper themselves can see other Espers. Your parents will neither hear nor see me."

I blink. "Well...that's good, I guess."

So I head into the kitchen, The Magician following me, and I take a seat at the table. Mom doesn't scream that there's some monstrous being floating beside me, so I assume The Magician was telling the truth about being invisible to other people. Dad puts his newspaper away and takes a puff on his pipe - he's kind of old-fashioned that way. He even wears his slippers around the house and has little square glasses. But I digress.

"Dinner is served," Mom declares, bringing over our meal: roast beef with baby potatoes, carrots and celery. She's a great cook. Must be all the programs she watches. "Bon apetit!"

We each take a plateful of food and tuck in. About half a minute later, Dad raises his fork and points it at me like he does when he wants to make a statement. "You know, there's been some pretty strange goings-on around here in the past month or so."

"You don't say," I mutter in reply, copping a sly glance at The Magician. He's staring at the beef in wonder. I guess he doesn't really need to eat, so food must be an alien concept to him.

"Oh, yeah," Dad goes, like he's on a soapbox or something, "Very strange. One young lady said she was saved from certain death by a mysterious stranger. Just walkin' across the road, she said, when this car swerves right in front of her. Said she thought she was a goner. Then, all of a sudden, she was at the other side of the road. Car drove on. Said she didn't know how it happened, it just did. Like some sorta guardian angel, she said."

I have a fairly good idea what happened to her. Magician did say some people had supernaturally-gifted Espers. Or...something.

Mom just shakes her head. "Poor dear must have gotten the shock of her life."

Something stirs in me then. I don't know quite why, but I feel the sudden urge to tell Mom and Dad about The Magician. I guess they deserve to know, too.

"Mom...Dad?" I say quietly. They look at me.

"Yes, son?" asks Dad, puffing his pipe.

I look at Magician, surveying the carrots with enthusiastic interest. I give a little sigh. "There's...something I need to tell you."

"Have you started doing drugs?" asks Dad.

"What? No!"

"'Cos son, lemme tell you, drugs are not at all cool. They'll destroy your life, and furthermore--"

"I'm not doing drugs!"

"Drinking, then?" suggests Dad, eyeing me sternly. I sigh.

"No, Dad, not drinking either..."

"Son, you know I'm more than happy to let you sit and have a beer with me, but not 'til you're 18 at least."

"I don't want a beer!"

"Oh," says Mom, smiling. She looks at me with her big Bambi eyes. "I know what this is."

"Y-you do?" I ask quickly. If she has an Esper, I figure, at least it'll lessen the awkwardness of the situation. Though it might just make things a lot weirder.

She nods. "You've met a girl!"

I nearly fall off my seat. Somehow, I guess I was kind of expecting - even hoping - for her to say she knew about The Magician. My mind just doesn't like mundane ideas, it seems. "What?!"

"Oh, I'm so proud of you!" she squeals, getting up and throwing her arms around me.

"No, Mom, that's not it at all!" I cry, under the strain of her iron hug. "Besides, I already know a girl!"

Dad suddenly takes interest. "Oh, you're going out with that Japanese girl, are you?" He smirks. "Evan, you dog!"

"N-no," I bluster, feeling as though the sanctity of our platonic friendship has been violated by my own father, "Not Lily! She's just a friend!"

"You say that now, son, but I know you've got the hots for her. Cute little thing, isn't she?"

I should probably mention that my dad still has a certain...affinity...for teenage girls. Almost as much as Wes's dad. But Wes's dad just scares me.

"Dad, I don't...like...Lily!"

"Oh, my baby boy's all grown up," Mom coos happily, swaying back and forth with me in her arms. I just groan. The Magician's looking at me, but he doesn't say anything. I doubt they'd hear him anyway.

"Look, I'm not doing drugs, or drinking, and I'm not in love with Lily," I state firmly, once Mom decides to let go and takes her seat. "I've...uh...well...let's just say I've...made a new friend."

"Oh," says Mom, sounding a tad disappointed. She cuts off a bit of her beef and chews it in silence. Dad takes another puff on his pipe and resumes eating as well.

The next five minutes are spent eating in pretty much total silence, amongst an air of disappointment. Well, for Mom, anyway. After that, I just pick up my plate and get up.

"I'm finished."

"Finished?" says Mom, "But you've barely touched your potatoes!"

"I'm not that hungry." I head for the door, and Magician follows me. "I'll be in my room. I've got...study...to do."

I have a feeling school is going to be one hell of a wild ride.

And here's a little bit of characterisation for Evan's parents:

* Mitzi Chase: Hot Anime Mom, excellent cook, caring mother, gentle as a butterfly...unless someone threatens her family, in which case she goes into full-blown Mama Bear mode. She's not at all concerned with such concepts as feminism or gender inequalities; she's happy to stay at home and be a housewife, and she knows well she's the one keeping the whole house together. After Evan meets his Esper and becomes more secretive and distant, she shows real concern for him. She knows Evan is a capable young man, but she often wonders if he's keeping something from her. Who knows? Maybe she'll become an important figure in Evan's journey.

* Gerald Chase: Oddly resembling the classic father from 1950's sitcoms - neatly-combed hair, pipe, newspaper, slippers and square glasses - he's the kind of father who loves to spend time with his boy. Even though Evan is older now, he still harbours a secret desire to play catch with his son and help him ride a bicycle. On the other hand, he's glad that Evan's age opens up new opportunities for leisure and discussion; though his attempts to interest Evan in rugby and cricket haven't worked out so well for him. He knows something's up regarding his son's odd behaviour, and he intends to find out what it is.

1686

Roleplay / Re: RPM Fortress - The Roleplay

« on: November 12, 2009, 12:18:50 AM »

"For equality, liberty, fraternity or death!" called Lucky's disembodied voice, as he was still sneaking up behind DEII whilst invisible. "And tiny miniskirts for the ladies."

1687

Fan Creations / Re: Tai's thread of stuff and a fighting game.

« on: November 09, 2009, 06:09:58 PM »

I like these a lot, but the Green Lantern one's my favourite. It's so...dynamic!

You draw dynamic poses better 'n me. ;_;

1688

Off The Wall / Re: See ya later!/Welcome back!

« on: November 08, 2009, 10:12:04 PM »

Take care, Karai, and best of luck to you.

1689

Forum Games / Re: "What Are You Thinking Now?"

« on: November 08, 2009, 08:50:48 PM »

Write or draw because you want to.

I keep telling myself that. I just hope I'll actually take it to heart at some point.

I suppose the wisest words I've ever heard on this subject would be from Treasure themselves, upon being asked how and why they made Gunstar Heroes: "We just made the game we wanted to play."

I guess I should follow their advice and write because I like writing...

1690

Forum Games / Re: "What Are You Thinking Now?"

« on: November 08, 2009, 05:40:06 PM »

I'm discouraged.

Whenever I want to write, I tend to look at professional works - anime, books, songs, moves, etc. - for inspiration. However, this tends to have a painful side-effect; it feeds the demonic voice in my head that keeps telling me my ideas are no good. When I look at a good anime or movie, I am often impressed by the visuals and how they, without words or speech, can capture the viewers' imaginations. Then, when I go to write, I am left wondering if mere words can compare. As the old saying goes, "a picture is worth a thousand words". Do I have to write a thousand-word essay just to give the impression of a powerful figure, a splendid character?

And, of course, there is also the feeling that my ideas pale in comparison. When I want to write sci-fi, for example, I sometimes look to Gurren Lagann for inspiration. Now, this is highly subjective, but it would be difficult to say that Gurren Lagann is not an impresive visual feast, and it tells a good story to boot. It makes me wonder how my ideas can possibly compare to this animated masterclass. I'm also quite wary of drawing inspiration, sometimes, because what is inspiration to me might be seen as plagiarism to someone else.

Maybe I'm just discouraging myself here.

I need advice.

1691

Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Nick Z. Rythm

« on: November 08, 2009, 12:02:03 AM »

I may not sprite, and I only upload art once in a blue moon, but damnit I like writing and write I shall. So have something I've been working on.

Just to be awkward, I won't tell you what it's about. Read yourself.

Enjoy~

(click to show/hide)

It's February 15th.

In a couple of hours, my life will change forever.

-----

I'm sitting Maths class, staring vacantly out the window, listening to the clock on the wall ticking away. It's a nice day out, but I'm stuck in here learning about simultenous quadratic equations. I have no idea what any of that means, so I drift off into my own world. Mr. Lator doesn't notice I'm not even looking at him.

Finally the bell rings, and I lazily pick up my books and leave the classroom. It's time to head home, so I head to my locker to deposit my books. My three best friends are there already, of course.

There's Wes Bradley, my best-of-the-best friend, even though our interests are miles apart: I like reading and writing, he likes soccer and running. He's also a total womanizer, and right now he's talking to a few third-form girls, and he's got them eating out his hand. He's just magic like that.

Sitting next to him is Lily Ayashi, who's originally from Japan. Akihabara, I think she said. She's a nice girl, and a total tech whiz - if you're ever wondering how a computer works, she'll tell you exactly what to do, right down to the finest detail. I'm not afraid to say that she's cute as a button, too, standing by her locker with a book in her hands and her little reading glasses and golden-blonde hair.

And then there's Rich Harper, who's drawing some sort of alien symbol on his locker. Rich is...well, alright, he's completely nuts. I don't know if he's actually insane or he just puts it on, but he's like excitement in a bottle. Wes maintains - in his usual manner of good-natured quips - that I won Rich in a bet, but I guess I like him because he's crazy. There's never a dull moment when Rich is around, that's for sure.

My name is Evan Chase, in case you're wondering. That's kind of important, I guess, since I'm the one telling the story and all that.

Wes is the first to notice me. This big grin appears on his face and he tells the girls he has stuff to do, then he walks over to me and holds out his hand. "Hey, Evan! What's up, my bro?" he says, and we exchange our secret handshake.

"Not much," I reply, managing a tired smile. Then Lily puts her book down and smiles.

"Hey, Evan," she says in her sweeter-than-sugar voice. I love her voice, for some reason. I have no idea why. I just nod back at her.

Once he sees me, Rich whirls around to face me and puts his hands on his waist, grinning like a lunatic. "The cavalry has arrived," he declares proudly. I don't even know how to respond to that. So I just salute him for whatever reason my tired mind can conjure up.

"So, what's the pee-oh-ay for today?" asks Wes, leaning against his locker like he owns the place.

"If it's all the same to you," I reply nonchalantly, "I'd rather just sit around at home until an opportunity presents itself to me."

What I didn't realize was that there was an opportunity waiting around the corner, and fate was just waiting for me to ask for it. I've never been much of a go-getter - that's Wes's turf - but I guess sometimes, opportunities have no choice but to be seized. I brought this up after we had left the building and began to walk home.

"Do you ever get the feeling that there's something watching you?" I ask them, waiting for the lights to turn green.

"Oh, all the time," says Rich, "UFOs are everywhere, dude. But they must be benevolent, 'cos they seem to like watching over us."

"I meant something deeper. Something more...spiritual."

"What," coos Wes, "Like God or something?"

I shrug. "Maybe."

"What's brought this up all of a sudden?" asks Lily as we cross the road.

"I've just been thinking," I reply, looking up at the sky detachedly, "About the universe and stuff. Metaphysics. I've been thinking, maybe there really is magic and living fantasy in the world. Out there, somewhere. But we just can't see it."

"It's possible," points out Lily, "After all, the average human being is said to use only 10% of their brain. It's possible that there is some kind of higher intelligence, which we cannot comprehend."

"See? Lily agrees with me," I mutter.

"You've always been like that," Wes teases in his usual good-natured way, "Ever since we were little kids, you've always been wonderin' why your life can't be more like a..."

"More like a work of fantasy," I idly murmur. We're passing by my house now. "I'll see you guys later, alright?"

"Okay," says Lily, smiling, "Bye-bye!"

I wave back to them, then walk in through the front door. My mother is chopping vegetables for dinner on the kitchen counter and looking at the TV while she's doing it.

"Hey, mom," I call.

"Hello, dear," she replies. I glance over at the TV screen. Some cookery program. She loves cookery programs. I just walk through the kitchen, out into the hall, up the stairs and stand outside my bedroom.

I am in no way prepared for what I'm about to see.

(click to show/hide)

I'm trying not to be alarmed here. I really am.

But it's kind of hard when there's someone - or something - sitting on my bed. It definitely wasn't there before.

"Hey, what's going on here?" I yell, backing up against the door. The...thing...on my bed isn't human, not by a long shot. It's got a humanoid shape, alright, but it looks more like a robot or alien than a normal person. The body seems to be fleshy and organic, but it's got these weird metal plates over its chest and arms and legs and...over most of its face, so that only a pair of glowing eyes are looking out. It's sitting on my bed, cool as anything, and staring right at me.

I'm genuinely freaking out here.

"Look," I go, fumbling at the doorknob, "If this is some kinda prank, it's not funny." I try to turn the knob. "Is that you in that suit, Wes? This is one of Rich's ideas, isn't it? Ha ha ha! R-really funny, guys."

Crap, the door's locked.

How did it lock itself?

"Do not be afraid," the thing says in this deep, hollow voice. It stands up and - get this - starts hovering an inch or so above the ground. It even has the nerve to hold its hand out to me.

"That's a good voice impression, Wes," I stutter nervously, "B-but the joke's over now...come on out."

"I am not your enemy," the thing goes on, "I am your friend. I am you."

I just cock an eyebrow. What the hell is this guy on about? "You're me?"

"Yes. I am you; or, more accurately, an extension of you. I am your subconcious mind taking form - an Esper."

"An Esper," I mutter, "Isn't that someone who has, y'know, psychic abilities? Not...whatever the hell you are?"

"Yes. Where do you think their abilities come from?"

"Sleight of hand, hidden cameras, smoke and mirrors, that sort of thing," I wager. The thing shakes its head.

"No. That is what they want you to believe. In actuality, their abilities are genuine and real; most every magician, fortune teller or psychic in this world is guided and empowered by one of us. An Esper."

"Most everyone?"

"There are some who do not possess an Esper of their own, or have not yet released it,  but are nevertheless mystified by the tricks of these clever people," the thing explains, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "They try to replicate their abilities, to varying degress of success. But what they cannot see is the magician's "invisible hand", so to speak - the subconcious spirit putting the rabbit in the hat, taking the pea out from under the shell, harmlessly seperating the woman in half. It is all the work of we Espers."

I can't believe this. It's all too much, too soon. Espers? Magicians? Psychic spirits? I must be going nuts. Maybe Rich has finally gotten to me. I rub my eyes in a desperate attempt to regain my grip on sanity. When I open my eyes, the thing, the Esper, as it calls itself, it still standing a few feet away from me.

"This is insane. Ghosts and ghoulies don't really exist, right? It's all just...just fantasy!"

"And you would know."

I blink. "What?"

"All your life, Evan, you have desired for your life to be more like a work of fantasy; like the stories you read. Only now have I appeared before you. But I have always been within you, waiting to be freed from your mind."

Right about then, I decide I've had just about enough of this thing. "No! Just...no! Yes, I've wanted that all my life, but...I always knew it was just a dream! If you're really here, then...then what about everything else I know? What's the difference between illusion and reality?"

The thing shakes its head solemnly. "Calm down. You are taking this too far. Nothing else has changed to alter the flow of reality. Do not think of this as a breach of structured continuity - rather, think of it as an extension of what you know to be in existence. Did Plato himself not say there are two worlds: the world we percieve through our senses, and the world that contains the essence of all things?"

He's got me there. I just nod, more to be polite than anything.

"Yes. It was Plato who said we cannot always trust what we experience through our sight, hearing, and other senses. He believed in a perfect universe, the "World of Ideas", wherein there exists the "perfect" form of everything."

"What does this have to do with me? Or better yet, you?"

"I am not finished. Aristotle later rejected this theory, stating that the senses are just as important as the mind. He deviated from Plato's beliefs by saying that all physical bodies consist of two parts." He holds his two hands out, palms cupped upwards. "There is the matter," he raises his left hand, "And there is the form," he raise his right hand. "The matter is that which the body is made from; this is you. The form is that which defines the body, its essence; that which seperates it from other bodies. This is myself. Aristotle believed that one cannot without the other - form must have matter, and matter must have form. Similarly, Evan, we are two sides of the same coin. You are the physical body, the host, that which controls me; I am the spirit, the subconcious mind, that which empowers yet serves you. Do you understand?"

Now, this is going to sound crazy, but bear with me here. I actually do understand what he's saying. It's weird - it's outright insane, really - but somehow, I suppose I've always known that there was something else out there. Whenever I looked at a magic trick, I would wonder how they did it. My rational mind said there was a logical explanation to it, but the little kid in me always thought it must really have been magic. I always wondered how sleight-of-hand, hidden cameras and smoke and mirrors could allow someone cut a woman in half. I just never thought the little kid would be right after all.

The thing...sorry, the Esper, sits back down on the bed. He puts his hand next to him. I come over and sit beside him.

"Okay, so, can I ask you something?"

"Certainly?"

I look up at the ceiling, then at him. "Ghosts and spirits...those kind of things...are they Espers too?"

"Indeed they are," he replies. "You see, everybody has some form of an Esper. Most people are just not aware of it. As well as that, only a handful of people are able to harness their Esper to gain supernatural powers. In olden days, they would be seen as druids and holy men and were revered; or they would be seen as demons and witches and punished for their gift. To answer your question - when a person dies, their subconcious mind and soul are seperated from the host body. This is the Esper being freed, if you will, from its earthly form. Most Espers, after being freed, return to the place where all Espers hail from. Alas, some still retain feelings of sorrow, anger or guilt from their mortal host's lifetime, and cannot return until these feelings have been sated. It is a terrible existence, to be a restless Esper."

This is unbelievable. I'm actually talking to someone who understands this stuff - he is this kind of stuff! I need to know more. So I ask him:

"Did philosophers like Plato and Aristotle have Espers?"

He considers this. "I cannot say for sure, given that I am but a young Esper amongst many. It is possible that they may have possessed Espers and wished to teach others of them, but not everyone was willing to accept their ideas. A terrible shame, really."

It's not really the answer I was hoping for, but I let it slide. I decide to go back to the first question.

"So, where do all these Espers come from, anyway? You said something about, uh, returning there."

He says nothing for a moment, then speaks. "I cannot say. Even I do not know. No-one knows. Many would believe it is God himself, if you believe in such a thing; others would believe it is the centre of all existence, the nexus of all reality. Others just believe it is a giant fish."

"A giant fish?"

"That theory is not very important. In short, I cannot answer your question."

I nod. I suppose it'd be unfair to assume he knows everything about this stuff. He looks at me. I can't tell if he has a mouth under the plating, but if he does, I get the feeling he's smiling.

"Now, Evan, I have a question for you."

"Fair enough," I go, "Shoot."

"Do you accept this?"

"What, Espers and stuff?"

"Yes."

I just shrug. "It's kinda hard not to when you're sitting right next to me, isn't it?" I can't help but chuckle. "Oh, man. I can't wait to tell Wes, Lily and Rich about this. They're gonna freak out. Well, maybe not Rich."

He suddenly become a bit defensive. "I would be careful of telling them." I look back at him puzzledly. "Those who do not possess Espers themselves are not usually understanding of such matters," he explains.

"Oh."

After that, there's a long - some might say awkward - moment of silence. I'm just left looking at the floor, while he stares blankly in front of him. He seems to be good at just staring blankly, what with those expressionless eyes he has on him. Eventually, something comes to mind. I decide to break the tense silence.

"What's your name?"

He turns his head and looks down at me. "Pardon?"

"I mean, what should I call you? You've gotta have a name, right?"

"I suppose so," he says, half-chuckling while he says it. "Very well. You may call me...The Magician."

"The Magician?"

"Indeed. You see, in the mystical wisdom of the Tarot - the fortune-telling cards - The Magician represents one who understands the innate intricacies of the universe, for he has experienced them himself; he is the one who, through his own inner power, brings change to his world. He is the conjurer - he who brings tales and stories to life."

"Okay," I go, still a little confused, "But what does that have to do with me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The Magician replies, probably smiling again, "You, Evan, are the one who brings these stories to life. Ever since you were little, it is all you have ever desired. And now, because you are ready to accept it, you have conjured myself - your Esper."

"I don't see how I'm ready, though," I mutter. He obviously hears it, because he says:

"In your subconcious mind, you are. I should know - I am that subconcious mind, after all. You're a young adult now, Evan. You are more able to understand these things."

I just nod, maybe a little too slowly. It's been a pretty weird afternoon, and I haven't even had dinner yet.

I can only wonder what the others will think if I tell them.

Thanks to the both of you who'll comment on this.

1692

Forum Games / Re: Comment on the Previous Signature.

« on: November 07, 2009, 07:25:40 PM »

Warp factor nine!

1693

Off The Wall / Re: Birthday Thread~

« on: November 07, 2009, 07:24:14 PM »

I missed Wily's birthday? I am a terrible person. Happy belated birthday, mein herr!

1694

Forum Games / Re: Add a caption to the previous poster's avatar, ROUND TWO!

« on: November 07, 2009, 07:22:04 PM »

SHAA-YEW-KEN!

1695

Forum Games / Re: Add a caption to the previous poster's avatar, ROUND TWO!

« on: November 07, 2009, 01:10:13 PM »

I CAN NEVER BLINK. I CAN ONLY STARE INTO THE DARKEST RECESSES OF YOUR SOUL.

1696

Roleplay / Re: RPM Fortress - The Roleplay

« on: November 07, 2009, 12:52:57 PM »

Lucky decided that, since his recconaisance skills were not yet needed, he'd follow Magnus and DEII. After rummaging around in his suit for a moment, he produced his cardboard mask with DEII's face crudely scribbled on it. He placed it on himself and dashed silently after the Pyro and Engineer.

1697

Roleplay / Re: RPM Fortress - The Roleplay

« on: November 06, 2009, 08:58:16 PM »

[...] what would fit with me?"

[OOC: Soldier (offensive class; shotgun, bazooka, shovel and grenades (the latter are never actually operable in the game); focus on killing enemies quickly), Demoman (defensive class; sticky-bomb/grenade launcher and scrumpy bottle; focus on blowing invaders to bits and destroying Engineer's Sentries) or Spy (support class; revolver, switchblade, invisibility watch, electro-sapper (for short-wiring Sentries); focus on stealth, retrieval and assassination.]

1698

Roleplay / Re: The Busy World of Rockman Perfect Memories

« on: November 06, 2009, 08:52:23 PM »

Joker smiled coyly.

"There is a vast gulf, my good fellow, between one who steals for their own selfish greed, and one who steals for the sport of it; I am the latter. This treasure I speak of has never been found, no, never! Oh, many a brave and prodigious man has gone in search of it, but none have ever achieved their goal. It is a challenge, you see - it has been passed down in legend that he - or she - who finds this ultimate treasure will be hailed as the greatest thief in the world! As a man of noble sport and honourable game, I have taken it upon myself to find it! I, the Magnificent Joker, hero to the people of Trumpania, shall some day earn the title of...LEGENDARY THIEF! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

1699

Forum Games / Re: If I were a super villain

« on: November 06, 2009, 08:43:51 PM »

Ohhhhh, I see. I'm just curious, because I don't read comic books and I was wondering if there was a distinct line that seperates the ordinary villain from the super-villain. n_n

1700

Roleplay / Re: RPM Fortress - The Roleplay

« on: November 06, 2009, 06:07:11 PM »

"Ha ha, piece of [acid burst]," Lucky Spy proclaimed smarmily, his figure fading back into coherency while he stepped through the BLU Fortress's side door. He noticed Dr. Engineerly II chewing on the afro of a rather peeved-looking Medic, and cocked an eyebrow.

"New recruits, is it?"