901
Fan Creations / Re: KoiDrake´s art dumping
« on: March 21, 2010, 11:49:10 PM »
The boar robot has a clever design. I like it.
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902
Fan Creations / Re: Cute things?
« on: March 21, 2010, 11:36:16 PM »
Tits are overrated.
It looks like a closed eye to me.
It looks like a closed eye to me.
903
Off The Wall / Re: Post Pictures Of Yourself
« on: March 21, 2010, 11:23:36 PM »This picture was taken shortly after being freshly showered and having eaten two home-made tacos.
Shortly after this picture was taken, every scouter withing a 5-mile radius of my house overloaded and went kaboom.
That is a manly look for a manly soul.
YOUR BLOOOOOOD. IT'S HOTTER THAN A THOUSAND SUUUUUUNS.
904
Fan Creations / Re: Art of DarkWaltz *3-19-10 Old art*
« on: March 21, 2010, 01:36:26 PM »
OH YES.
I reeeeeeeally like the girl with the eyepatch. =3
I reeeeeeeally like the girl with the eyepatch. =3
905
Roleplay / Re: The Busy World of Rockman Perfect Memories
« on: March 21, 2010, 12:11:47 PM »
Lucky ran down a corridor somewhere on the WDS. He was unsure of where to go now - his E-Wing had been totalled, and would likely take a long time to repair, time he didn't necessarily have; and he couldn't really return to Wily's chambers, in case the bad doctor had something even worse up his sleeve.
He stopped in his tracks then, because something seemed out of place. There was definitely something wrong. He had something of a knack for sensing cosmic abnormalities. He looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being watched, then continued running.
He stopped in his tracks then, because something seemed out of place. There was definitely something wrong. He had something of a knack for sensing cosmic abnormalities. He looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being watched, then continued running.
906
Fan Creations / Re: Art of DarkWaltz *3-19-10 Sketch - He's a pimp!?*
« on: March 20, 2010, 11:44:14 AM »
Trippin', yo. 
907
Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Lucky Star
« on: March 18, 2010, 03:02:20 AM »
The other side.
908
Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Nick Z. Rythm
« on: March 18, 2010, 02:40:27 AM » (click to show/hide)
Unfinished.
909
Forum Games / Re: "What Are You Thinking Now?"
« on: March 18, 2010, 12:36:58 AM »"This place really is terrible."
But it's a World Half Full, ne?
910
Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Nick Z. Rythm
« on: March 18, 2010, 12:35:46 AM »
An Ode To Pornography
Today I took my porn folder
And printed it all out
And set fire to it
I laughed as the breasts burned
Wholesome!
Get some!
Today I took my porn folder
And printed it all out
And set fire to it
I laughed as the breasts burned
Wholesome!
Get some!
913
Forum Games / Re: "What Are You Thinking Now?"
« on: March 18, 2010, 12:12:48 AM »
Links, zwo, links, zwo.
914
Fan Creations / Re: Rythm and Groove - Artwork, Poetry and Prose of Nick Z. Rythm
« on: March 17, 2010, 12:16:23 PM »
The Headless Angel
As if in some infernal dream, an eldritch nightmare conjured up by the foulest corners of the furthest reaches of my psyche, I bore witness to it. Words, being but human constructions, fail to express my feelings upon witnessing this travesty, this wretched abomination of reality. In that single insant, I felt a fear deeper and greater than anything ever felt by a mortal man, wanted to scream, desperately, but no sounds could break through and escape my petrified throat. I could only stare in the horror of all horrors at the twisted mockery of rational thought and evolution that stood before me. I will try my best to explain what I saw there and then:
It had the body of what I presumed to be an angel, though gaunt and emaciated, with gnarled bones clearly visible beneath the thin sheet of pale skin stretched out like tarp stretched across an ancient drum. It wore naught but a robe of silken cloth, so white and stunning as to be little more than a cruel jape contrasting the monster's grotesque features; it did not belong, and that made it all the worse in my own eyes. It had no head, that in particular struck me - and there was nothing in place of where a head should be. Not just an abscence of something, as is commonly thought to be nothing, but an absolute nothingess - an infinite pool of nothing sat where its head should be, upon the smooth, scarless stump that basely served for the creature's neck. I would have broken down and wept for how much nothing I could see (or not see; I am not sure), for it seemed to me a sick joke that so much nothingness could exist in one concentrated area; I did not know nothing had a form, but now I have seen it, and I will never forget the sight of nothing - unexplainable, but terrible nontheless. Terrible. Upon its back were many wings, many wings indeed; I counted eight, but although I could not bear to count more than that, something in the faintest recesses of my mind suggested that there were thousands more to be counted. Upon each one of them were a multitude of eyes, vaguely human, darting about frantically; thick, viscuous tears of a black, tar-like liquid were constantly secreted from them, dripping down and landing on the floor with the faintest of splashes. Each wing was spread outwards, perhaps in some form of evil parody of majesty, layered with ebony feathers, blacker than any black I ever thought possible to exist, darker than midnight; and in that brief moment I wondered how something could be so vastly dark whilst remaining so painfully visible. I was immediately dragged out of my desperate reverie by the sight of its arms.
Its arms were plentiful more than a man's, numbering six in total (unless there were other arms I failed to take into account, but I will assume for what is left of my sanity that there were no more); its legs numbered two, and all were unnaturally thin and sickly, as like the victim of a dread famine. Upon each of its gnawed, shrivelled hands, in the centre of the palms - for it held its palms out in front, as if to show me - it bore what seemed to be a mouth of some description; perfectly round and layered with tiny, shard-like fangs, too many to count, and in each mouth was yet another maw, each with its own row of teeth, and more, and more, seemingly going on forever and then some - an affront to logic and natural physics, for logic had no place in this madman's realm. I could see that each of its arms and legs was held in place by a long, rusted chain, each one fastened to a stone pillar, chipped, cracked and worn over the eons and eons I could only imagine this being had been trapped here. I could scarcely begin to imagine the length of time, for I did not know, but I wagered to myself it may have been an inconcievable length of time; perhaps since before time itself even existed. I could not help but feel a shred of remorse for this creature's endless plight, trapped here in this lightless dungeon for all eternity. However, this feeling quicky subsided, and was duly replaced by disgust and contempt. I have no idea why, but I cannot help but feel that if this being were ever to escape, it could bring about the end of the world. This potential future apocalypse must have been foreseen by whatever higher beings - and I dread to imagine them, so I will not, for the sake of what remains of my sanity - could possibly have seen fit to seal it down here. There is also the possibility it could be the saviour of our world, perhaps some sort of Messiah; but if you too could gaze upon the inexplicable abberation that I saw myself, this theory would quickly be dashed out and drowned under a sea of loathing and dread.
What I have just described is barely one-thousandth of the terrible nature of the being I saw. As I have said, words fail to describe my feelings for it, and indeed the sense of evil and revilement I could feel at ever microsecond I spent in its vile domain; a hundred new languages would have to be formed just to describe the depth of its infinite horror.
I only pray that this thing is never again seen by mortal eyes.
As if in some infernal dream, an eldritch nightmare conjured up by the foulest corners of the furthest reaches of my psyche, I bore witness to it. Words, being but human constructions, fail to express my feelings upon witnessing this travesty, this wretched abomination of reality. In that single insant, I felt a fear deeper and greater than anything ever felt by a mortal man, wanted to scream, desperately, but no sounds could break through and escape my petrified throat. I could only stare in the horror of all horrors at the twisted mockery of rational thought and evolution that stood before me. I will try my best to explain what I saw there and then:
It had the body of what I presumed to be an angel, though gaunt and emaciated, with gnarled bones clearly visible beneath the thin sheet of pale skin stretched out like tarp stretched across an ancient drum. It wore naught but a robe of silken cloth, so white and stunning as to be little more than a cruel jape contrasting the monster's grotesque features; it did not belong, and that made it all the worse in my own eyes. It had no head, that in particular struck me - and there was nothing in place of where a head should be. Not just an abscence of something, as is commonly thought to be nothing, but an absolute nothingess - an infinite pool of nothing sat where its head should be, upon the smooth, scarless stump that basely served for the creature's neck. I would have broken down and wept for how much nothing I could see (or not see; I am not sure), for it seemed to me a sick joke that so much nothingness could exist in one concentrated area; I did not know nothing had a form, but now I have seen it, and I will never forget the sight of nothing - unexplainable, but terrible nontheless. Terrible. Upon its back were many wings, many wings indeed; I counted eight, but although I could not bear to count more than that, something in the faintest recesses of my mind suggested that there were thousands more to be counted. Upon each one of them were a multitude of eyes, vaguely human, darting about frantically; thick, viscuous tears of a black, tar-like liquid were constantly secreted from them, dripping down and landing on the floor with the faintest of splashes. Each wing was spread outwards, perhaps in some form of evil parody of majesty, layered with ebony feathers, blacker than any black I ever thought possible to exist, darker than midnight; and in that brief moment I wondered how something could be so vastly dark whilst remaining so painfully visible. I was immediately dragged out of my desperate reverie by the sight of its arms.
Its arms were plentiful more than a man's, numbering six in total (unless there were other arms I failed to take into account, but I will assume for what is left of my sanity that there were no more); its legs numbered two, and all were unnaturally thin and sickly, as like the victim of a dread famine. Upon each of its gnawed, shrivelled hands, in the centre of the palms - for it held its palms out in front, as if to show me - it bore what seemed to be a mouth of some description; perfectly round and layered with tiny, shard-like fangs, too many to count, and in each mouth was yet another maw, each with its own row of teeth, and more, and more, seemingly going on forever and then some - an affront to logic and natural physics, for logic had no place in this madman's realm. I could see that each of its arms and legs was held in place by a long, rusted chain, each one fastened to a stone pillar, chipped, cracked and worn over the eons and eons I could only imagine this being had been trapped here. I could scarcely begin to imagine the length of time, for I did not know, but I wagered to myself it may have been an inconcievable length of time; perhaps since before time itself even existed. I could not help but feel a shred of remorse for this creature's endless plight, trapped here in this lightless dungeon for all eternity. However, this feeling quicky subsided, and was duly replaced by disgust and contempt. I have no idea why, but I cannot help but feel that if this being were ever to escape, it could bring about the end of the world. This potential future apocalypse must have been foreseen by whatever higher beings - and I dread to imagine them, so I will not, for the sake of what remains of my sanity - could possibly have seen fit to seal it down here. There is also the possibility it could be the saviour of our world, perhaps some sort of Messiah; but if you too could gaze upon the inexplicable abberation that I saw myself, this theory would quickly be dashed out and drowned under a sea of loathing and dread.
What I have just described is barely one-thousandth of the terrible nature of the being I saw. As I have said, words fail to describe my feelings for it, and indeed the sense of evil and revilement I could feel at ever microsecond I spent in its vile domain; a hundred new languages would have to be formed just to describe the depth of its infinite horror.
I only pray that this thing is never again seen by mortal eyes.
915
Off The Wall / Re: Art tools, what do you use?
« on: March 14, 2010, 09:37:34 PM »
Whatever pens, pencils, rubbers and paper I can scrounge together.
Oh, and something hard to lean on, like a book.
Oh, and something hard to lean on, like a book.
916
Forum Games / Re: Praise the above poster!
« on: March 14, 2010, 04:11:08 PM »
He inspires me to sprite or something.
917
Forum Games / Re: Praise the above poster!
« on: March 14, 2010, 11:33:11 AM »
HE IS FULL OF HOPE
918
Off The Wall / Re: Your favorite animal?
« on: March 14, 2010, 11:32:26 AM »
Cats and spiders and owls and wolves and crabs.
919
Off The Wall / Re: Reposted Picture Thread (56K Warning)
« on: March 14, 2010, 01:18:34 AM »Why do all chicks gotta have cat ears?
'Cos it looks good.
Oh, I had forgotten about this. Thanks!
920
Off The Wall / Re: Rare Penguin Discovered
« on: March 12, 2010, 11:55:17 PM »
You just made my day you magnificent bastard.
921
Original / Re: MegaMan 10 - More Playable Blues
« on: March 12, 2010, 08:36:21 PM »
Wasn't this already posted?
I got a laugh out of it.
I got a laugh out of it.
922
Off The Wall / Re: Rare Penguin Discovered
« on: March 12, 2010, 08:11:02 PM ».... That was so bad, even Chill Penguin wouldn't approve. : | *insert thumbs down kobun*
That wasn't meant to be a joke. "Calm the [tornado fang] down" would have sounded rude, though.
923
Original / Re: Official RPM Robot Master Design Thread
« on: March 12, 2010, 05:33:36 PM »
Well, I pretty much did just that - I gave him something of a huge overhaul, so he now resembles something more similar to a huge robotic eye, while retaining the same arms and shoulders.
Thanks, but I'm trying to make most of my own group look a little less...silly than might be the norm. xP
Most masters have the shape or some charateristics of everyday items.
Thanks, but I'm trying to make most of my own group look a little less...silly than might be the norm. xP
924
Forum Games / Re: "What Are You Thinking Now?"
« on: March 11, 2010, 11:44:51 PM »Not while I'm alive.
And where did you get that idea?
Who do you think?
925
Off The Wall / Re: Rare Penguin Discovered
« on: March 11, 2010, 10:56:44 PM »How am I doing that?
...Well...um...
*Cries behind the penguin*
It's a joke, it doesn't have to make sense~