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DarkBlade77 Posted: 03-09-2003 , 08:10 PM

Ratio 4 Vanessa Abuser

Registered: May 2001
Location: Secret Boss Stage #1

Survivor X: Introduction Thread

Post character intros here. I apologize for not making this thread sooner. If you already put one up in the drafting thread, just put one here, allright?

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The Damned Posted: 03-09-2003 , 08:29 PM

Hyperion's servant

Registered: Oct 2002
Location: Where you are not.

Question (yet again): If we change our character before April 18th, do we delete the intro for our old character or just leave it?


If the good die young, then I'm effectively immortal.

Hyperion: "Stop the asteriod, Magneto. Stop the asteriod, or I'll implode your head."

Hyperion: "Give up this garbage and face the inevitable, Magneto. You cannot defeat me."
Magneto: "Everyone has an Achilles heel!"
Hyperion: "Only Achilles had an Achilles heel. I cannot be stopped."

Opposite attract only because men are sluts and women are whores. Thus the equation balances out.

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DarkBlade77 Posted: 03-09-2003 , 08:37 PM

Ratio 4 Vanessa Abuser

Registered: May 2001
Location: Secret Boss Stage #1

Delete it, unless that intro is linked to your character in some manner that you need to convey.

When it comes to storylines, you have the most freedom.

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Bugenhagen Posted: 03-09-2003 , 09:36 PM

Hello, Mr. Forest Fairy!

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: Right behind you.

Out of curiosity, will a Character Description thread show up soon?

I hope these threads don't get lost in this gigantic forum...

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Bowling Pin Posted: 03-09-2003 , 09:41 PM

The 24 Edit Team Av

Registered: Feb 2001
Location: Harker Heights, TX, USA

Fan Fic Library isn't really big so it should be easy to navigate.


Jack/Tony/Guile = Edit Team 2003

Sonic Writes Fanfics - Updated? The hell?
The Ansatsuken Kid - Episode 13!
Dan and Skullo - A m121 joint. Rarely updated, but still good.
3rd World Pimp - OGs.

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m121akuma Posted: 03-09-2003 , 09:50 PM

t3h 3v1l av: Part 2

Registered: Apr 2001
Location: Southfield, MI. Bitches.

Should Sidekicks write intros too? I was gonna anyway, just curious.


Southfield Board of Education: Prepared to be Schooled

quote:
Originally posted by Starhammer
SRK.com is the new evercrack. All we need is some Idiot to kill someone and blame SRK.com for it, and its status will be irreversible.

-Starhammer-


---Team Southfield Website---

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MageusBlack Posted: 03-09-2003 , 11:36 PM

Grab your asses and run!

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

Anyone can write intros. It's up to the player, that's all. These aren't even that nessercery.

Question; Should character description go here, or in drafting or is a new thread gonna pop up for it?


"My name is Maia, of Subaru sparkling in the heavenly dome. I support the holy moon, and pray on your behalf..."

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Amethyst Posted: 03-10-2003 , 01:34 AM

Jellomancer

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

Look, look, an intro!

Okay, this tournament marks kind of a change in the way I'll be playing B/R/A. It's not much of a change, but I've just shifted a little bit away from the main game universe (AGAIN! ) The main change is I will now be properly spacing ability and item names. Anyway, on with the asskicking!

---

Rain pelted down upon the shattered tower. The group looked down at the upthrust wings of the goddess statues below, glistening in the occasional flashes of thunder. Three female figures, nude, with a minimum of features. No mouths, eyes simple carved depressions. The statue was finely finished, but the incomplete nature of the figures gave a sense of being archetypes or concepts, not specific figures.

"Three nameless goddesses," Blue said, as if reciting something learned early in his life. "Of magic, intelligence, and compassion."

Rouge stood next to his brother, gazing at the statues. "On the left, Intelligence with angel's wings. On the right, Compassion with demon's wings. And in the middle, the purely human aspect, Magic."

Blue nodded. "Compassion and Intelligence aid Magic, for without the knowledge and empathy to use it well, magic is like an unrestrained fire. But use it well, and magic can lift you beyond your human capabilities, as Intelligence and Compassion lift Magic."

"Kyle said the statues hold a secret."

Fuse groaned slightly and stepped back from the edge. "That's all well and good, but how do we get down there? This ring is nearly vertical, we can't get down by climbing."

Blue pointed at the statue of Intelligence, whose wings stretched up past the ring they stood on, and not more than five feet from it. "We jump."

Fuse shook his head. "NO. No way in HELL am I jumping out there and climbing down cold, rain-slicked marble."

Gen shrugged. "Fine then. You can stay here." Turning, he leaped out into space, grabbing onto the feathers in the statue's wing and slowly climbing down. Emelia and the twin mages followed suit, leaving Fuse gaping.

"Hey! Wait up! Argh... Damn you!" Closing his eyes, Fuse leapt toward the statue, slamming into the wing and basically sliding down it to the shoulder of the statue. Gen stifled a chuckle. Blue and Rouge were already a short distance away, standing on the left breast of Magic, gazing up at her face.

Rouge looked at Blue. "You feel it too." It wasn't a question.

"Fake goddess..."

Blue raised his left hand, Rouge his right, and together they touched the spot where the mouth of the statue would have been. A bead of light appeared beneath their hands and crawled up the face of the statue to the forehead. With a hum, a disc of energy appeared under their feet, lifting them towards the forehead of the statue and through it.

Inside the statue, the disc began to descend, carrying the mages past row upon row of spherical chambers holding...

"Children... Babies..."

"What is this place?"

The disc slowed to a halt at the floor of the chamber, and the twins stepped off, staring up at the creche around them. A groan from behind a column brought them around, as a battered figure in Archmage's robes hauled itself into view.

"Who's... there? Is that... Blue? Or Rouge?"

Blue hurried over to the elderly mage's side. "Yes, we're here, Archmage. What happened?" The Archmage's face was horribly burnt, and his eyeballs useless masses of burned tissue. Blood soaked his robes, and it was fairly obvious he didn't have much longer to live. A fine green crystalline dust around him showed that only the power of the Stasis Rune spell had kept him alive this long.

"Demons... A portal to Hell opened... We knew this would happen... This was why... You were created."

"Created?"

"Yes. Your soul was split in this chamber, along with your embryo. This way..." He paused for a few moments to cough. "This way you could become the ultimate mage... Now, Blue, go down to Hell. Defeat the demons... and save our world."

Rouge, silent until now, looked down at the Archmage. "You made us as a weapon? Just a tool to fight the demons?"

The Archmage's face paled. "You... You didn't join?"

Blue looked puzzled. "What are you taking about?"

"When... one of you defeated the other... It was assumed with near certainty that your souls would merge! You would have the knowledge of every spell on this world! What... happened?"

"We... didn't fight. We talked it over and decided to work together."

The Archmage groaned. "No... No, no, no! We're doomed... The world is doomed!"

Rouge snorted. "What are you talking about? We've kicked monster ass all the way here. Can Hell be much harder?"

The old mage gestured weakly to his injuries. "You see... what just one of them did to me. We ran it through all the divinations... The only way... the Lord of Hell may be defeated... is by a wizard in command of all the spells in the world... Only one. Two cannot defeat him. Not even the combined might of the Magic Kingdom brought to bear... can hope to defeat him. Only you... if you were joined. Now... we are doomed." The Archmage's head dropped weakly to the floor.

"Dead... What do you think we should do, brother?" Blue looked up just in time to roll aside as a blast of energy slammed into the floor where he had rested. Rouge spun about, hands rising, blue-green fire crackling around them. The form of a demon loomed into the room from behind another column, green dust flaking off it as the Stasis Rune spell, placed by the Archmage, wore off of it as well. Rouge chanted, aiming one hand at the demon.

"Energy Chain!"

As Rouge felt the arcane energies swirl around him, he heard Blue chanting as well. A shaft of lambent aquamarine energy sprang from the red-clad wizard's hand, splashing against the demon's hide and spreading into binding strands that wrapped tightly around the hellspawn. With a mighty heave, Rouge placed his hands around the chain and swung the demon upward. As the demon neared the top of its arc, Blue finished his spell and flung both arms into the air.

"Destiny lies in my hands! Stop movement! Time Eclipse!"

The room darkened for a moment as the tolling of a great clock sounded. As the light returned, the demon lay frozen at the peak of its arc. Rouge grinned and crouched, one hand going to his waist where the Comet Blade still rested.

"Break the body, destroy the spirit... Dead End!"

The katana flashed from its sheath as Rouge dashed forward and up, sword moving to intersect the demon's body. With a blast of energy, Rouge stopped in midair on the other side of the demon and turned, dealing a swift downward stroke. The body of the hellspawn smashed to the floor in two separate pieces. Panting, Rouge dropped slowly to the floor, sliding the Comet Blade back into its sheath.

Blue idly walked over and nudged the demon corpse with his toe as the time enchantment wore off it and ichor began leaking across the floor. He sighed.

"Doomed... What should we... Huh?"

"What?" Rouge noticed Blue was staring over his shoulder at something behind him. Rouge turned, catching sight of a rippling distortion in the air. He frowned. "Is this..."

"It's not a Gate spell... Is it another tournament?"

Rouge stepped slowly forward, reaching one hand out to touch the surface of the distortion. The air thickened and solidified around his arm, and he was yanked into the rippling air. Blue thought for a moment, gazing at the corpses of the Archmage and the demon. "Maybe..."

He walked forward and into the gate.

The ripples ceased, leaving behind only the two dead bodies and the echoes of a single word.

"Ouch."

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MageusBlack Posted: 03-10-2003 , 02:01 AM

Grab your asses and run!

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

EDIT: Fiddle, didi... The happy peanut frolics towards the magical tree of impending DOOM!

(Basically I'm not happy with what I wrote. Continue to the next post! Don't mind this! Yes! Go now! Right now... Good foruming person...)

Last edited by MageusBlack on 04-07-2003 at 08:33 AM

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colguile Posted: 03-10-2003 , 03:01 AM

You want a piece of ME?

Registered: May 2001
Location: Toronto ,Ontario, Canada

Damn, thats some long ass shit.

Glad I picked a simple yet kickass character whom only speaks english.


How to score on a second date:
quote:
Originally posted by Zerwilligo
Call her? That shit is weak

If she gave you her address, walk up to her house and knock. When she opens the door, drag her out of the house and rape her in the bushes.

Damn, you people don't know how to be gangsters. Holler!

quote:
Originally posted by Mummy-B
I will never, ever, ever have sex with a Japanese girl ever for the rest of my damn life ever.

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Bowling Pin Posted: 03-10-2003 , 08:37 AM

The 24 Edit Team Av

Registered: Feb 2001
Location: Harker Heights, TX, USA

Yeah
Don't think I forgot about your fat ass though Irv
Runnin' around takin' pictures like you Puff Daddy and the family muthafucka
And that bitch Charli Baltimore bitch look like she died last week pale as fuck
Paint her hair red think she gone sell records tryin' to impersonate Pink and shit bitch
Punk ass mothafuckas
All you mothafuckas get wrote on nigga
Ain't no mothafuckas leave her alone cause she a bitch fuck that nigga.
Fuck all of it but not you Ashanti baby you know how I feel about you baby, come on come here girl
Come on gimme some love girl
Fuck Irv Gotti you know how me and you do baby
You know they say I'm sexy now
Hey Irv your mama got a thing for me.


“ARGH!!! AGH, NO, NAH, TURN IT THE HELL OFF!!!”

K9999 hollered from behind a driver side seat. He, Angel, Foxy, and Kula, all agents of NESTS, were cooped up within the cab of a delivery truck. K9999 was uncomfortable, what with that limited seating and the 50-Cent song blaring from the CD player in the cab.

“Angel, tell him to knock it off. He’s banging from behind my seat,” said Foxy with a cool, but annoyed boredom.

“HEY, STUPID, SHUT UP ALREADY! It’s not as if we’re making you listen to pop music!” Angel got up from her seat and whacked K9999 in the head, but not before bumping her head on the low ceiling of the cab. “Ow!”

“ARGH, AGH!!! 50-CENT MIGHT AS WELL BE POP, AHH!!!” K9999, however, did not stop his boisterous cry.

“What the?! 50-Cent is SO not pop! You must be a dipshit or something; I bet those experiments on your brain made you retarded.”

“Actually, Angel...” Foxy interrupted. “50-Cent is gaining quite a bit of popularity with the youngsters. Give it a month, and he could be a household name, and become a pop artist.”

“Oh hell, not you either! 50-Cent is pure, aggressive, ghetto rap; not that you hear a lot of that nowadays since those bastards KILLED everything rap was all about...” Angel, infuriated, continued on an earlier rant she made about the music industry; however, she just secretly wanted to justify her usage of Kazaa Lite.

“They? You mean, the industry which wants to make a profit? What company ISN’T made to make a profit? Music companies are in to make a profit. Sony is in to make a profit. Microsoft? In to make a profit. Kazaa? Of course they’re making money. And don’t tell me we aren’t working for a company that isn’t trying to get paid.” Foxy was making her point clear to Angel that she was getting tired of her anti-corporate ranting. “He hasn’t stopped pushing my seat yet. Kula, can you slap him, please?”

“Yes. I will.” Kula responded coldly, but it was in her nature. She slapped K9999.

“WHAT?! NOOOO!!! ARGH, NO, 50-CENT, YOU SLAPPING ME, ARGH!!! HELP ME, KANEDA!!!” K9999 stopped squirming, and shouting, and everyone waited to hear if someone, somewhere would shout back “TETSUO!!!” No one.

“But what I said is still right...50-Cent isn’t pop.” Angel wanted to continue her discussion.

“Listen, maybe you’ve become a little too overzealous...no, scratch that ‘maybe.’ But you seem to have forgotten that ‘pop’ means ‘popular.’ Now, I don’t care what kind of music is popular for a general audience; if all of a sudden, M.C. Hammer, Cocteau Twins, ABBA, and DaRude’s crack headed step cousin become popular and start playing on MTV, then they’re pop music. They might be a little watered down for general ‘consumption,’ but they’re still pop. Now, kindly, shut the fuck up. And your Kazaa Mix is over, if you haven’t noticed already.”

“...whatever.” Angel responded. She’s not hardcore! She thought. She replaced the ‘Kazaa Mix,’ much to K9999’s glee, and replaced it with her ‘Kazaa Mix 3,’ which features less 50-Cent, and more random trance and happy hardcore.

“NOOO!!! I...CAN’T STAND...THE AMBIENCE ANY LONGER!!! ARGH, THE HEAT, THE UNBEARABLE HEAT!!!” K9999’s arm started to puff up and grow several inches in width, in a disgusting display of sudden teenage growth spurt.

“Dammit, he just won’t shut up...Angel, crack the windows,” Foxy commanded.

“...nope. Windows are not cracking. Damn, it...is hot.”

“Well then, Kula. Plan B.”

“Yes.” Kula got up from her seat and pushed a switch to a small fan attached in the back corner of the cab. “Everything is in order.”

“Are you happy now, Four-Nine?”

“...NAH!...now I wanna see, Angel’s boobies,” smirked K9999.

“WHAT DID THAT LITTLE BASTARD SAY?!” Angel got up in a fit, and in fury, jumped from her seat and wailed upon K9999 with blind fists of anger. K9999 took the opportunity to fondle one boob.

“Oooh...y0ur b00b is t3h s0ph7,” K9999 uttered in l337. In a blazing explosion of wrath, Angel picked up K9999 and chucked him over Foxy’s seat. The young man landed, face first, into Foxy’s crotch.

“GET HIM THE HELL OUT OF, NO, OFF ME!!!” she shouted, throwing her characteristic confidence out the window. Kula came to Foxy’s aid by grabbing K9999; however, as he was stuck in Foxy’s crotch, she lost all her calm and their truck started to swerve. Large knocks and loud bangs could be heard from the trailer behind.

“...ooooh shiiiit.” was Angel’s quick assessment of the noise out back. Kula successfully got K9999 out of Foxy’s crotch and planted him on Angel’s unoccupied seat.

“...wow...I hope we didn’t bang up -the cargo-. I’m stopping the truck to check up on -him.-” Foxy did that, and motioned her fellow agents out as she opened the cab’s door.

They drove through an arid desert in the United States, their destination being NESTS HQ North America Southwest. Foxy’s group found their target, the very cargo being held in the trailer, the day before, from the hands of a...rival organization.

“Well, maybe he didn’t wake from the big bumps?” asked Angel.

“If the bumps didn’t wake him, Four-Nine’s ranting did.” responded Foxy. K9999 was about to yell out, but Foxy shook her head, violently. They made their way behind the trailer, and once they opened it, examined the condition of the makeshift laboratory that was constructed within it. They had a man propped onto a flat bed, who was their supposed cargo. Under suppressed drugs, he was rendered unconscious.

“The transfusion should have ended approximately two hours before hand. Therefore, that objective is not in jeopardy.” said Kula, in a cold monotone, as if anyone were concerned whether the aforementioned transfusion was completed. Angel whipped out a flashlight from her pockets and surveyed the broken bottles, vials, and miscellaneous lab equipment.

“Hey, what’s that thing we have connected to his brain?” Angel asked Foxy.

“...uh, I think it checks...mind-wave patterns. ... For synchronization or something.” Foxy answered, unsure.

“Actually, there is a machine attached to his arm; there is only a spare pasta strainer knocked onto his head during the rattling of the trailer minutes ago,” corrected Kula.

“...okay, then, I think that machine is the one that extracts the Hulk blood.”

“But this isn’t the Hulk, right? Wasn’t he the big green dinosaur on TV?” asked Angel, noting that the man in the trailer was neither big, green, or a dinosaur.

“He was a large green man. The data we compiled stated that he was the transformation of the man we see here: Dr. Banner, a plain-Jane scientist...with a knack of being hard to find. Oh, and if you had read your reconnaissance report, you’d have known that footage was all a sham. ”

“Oh yeah. But it was easy for us, because when -The Secret Conspiracy- finally nabbed him, we just bombed the place. Right? ... And are you sure that video was a fake? He even killed the cute Ricky boy.”

“Well, when you put it that way, the sense of accomplishment leaves me. ... But we do have him in our possession now,” responded Foxy, with a sense of disappointment. “And does it really matter if the damn report was fake or not?”

“One thing though; why did Zero ask us to give him another dose of Kusanagi’s blood?” asked Angel again.

“Because Kusanagi is among the most powerful beings in the world.”

“But look at all the ... clones we came up with! We had to burn up about a couple hundred million Kyo Kusanagis, and do you know how many we didn’t get? Tons! Don‘t even get me started on the mistakes! Krizalid, hell, aren’t there fifteen of Krizalid?”

“That defeat was a humiliation to NESTS...but we should only be concerned with our orders.”

“You know what Foxy?” Angel, accusingly, put her finger to Foxy’s chest. “You need to take charge, make some real goals.”

“I do. Get your finger off me.” Foxy lifted Angel’s accusing finger off of her.

“Yeah, you take charge. But what you take charge of are the orders that the big wigs cram down your throat! You need independence.” With that, Angel found a large bag of cactus-flavored snacks behind the broken laboratory paraphernalia. She tore it open, and popped prickly chips into her mouth. “Mmm...did you know they had cactus-flavored Fritos?”

“Actually, those are cactus-flavored Doritos.” Kula calmly interrupted.

“Whatever.”

“Wait...the thing you said about...me not taking enough charge?” Foxy was somewhat disturbed; she’d worked her way to the top of the NESTS hierarchy from the lowly bottom that was the grunt. She had inherited disdain with the executives who now directly boss her around. “I don’t care about the big wigs. But I don’t care about this job either. I just want to do what’s right for said situation.”

“Like I said, whatever. Mmm...” Angel was pleasantly eating her cactus-flavored Doritos when K9999 caught a whiff of them.

“YOU! ...GOT CHIPS!!! FOXY, FOXY, I’M...GONNA TAKE ‘EM!!!” K9999 screamed, but no one took heed of it. He shut up.

“I feel sorry for him.” Kula spoke softly, and broke the silence.

“...why do you say that?” asked Foxy.

“According to reconnaissance, he ’walks the earth.’ He truly is alone. ... I can relate.”

“Kula?” Angel settled her Doritos on the floor.

“Everything is secure, and there’s nothing important here to notice. Let’s just go, okay?” Foxy took charge, again, and gestured her comrades out of the trailer. They were walking to the cab, when Angel asked K9999:

“Why the hell would you think 50-Cent is pop?!”

“...Cuz he’s popular. AND I’M HARDCORE!!!”

“Oh, shut up you two.” Foxy broke in. The NESTS group drove off, and didn’t find out that their cargo was missing until Angel went back in the trailer a few hours later to get her cactus-flavored chips.


Jack/Tony/Guile = Edit Team 2003

Sonic Writes Fanfics - Updated? The hell?
The Ansatsuken Kid - Episode 13!
Dan and Skullo - A m121 joint. Rarely updated, but still good.
3rd World Pimp - OGs.

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Baka Posted: 03-10-2003 , 11:25 AM

Heaven or Hell?

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

A short disclaimer before I start, Any references to religion in this or any upcoming posts are not meant as a reflection on Christianity or suchlike in any way. I feel I should get this out of the way before I begin. I'm playing a religious character, therefore there will be religious references. And now, the overture commences…

Always in your Shadow – Kiske 0:1

Rushing into the clearing, Ky Kiske dropped his weapon in surprise and half knelt, half fell down by the metallic form lying there…

“This... what the...” he exclaimed, shock forcing the usually calm young man into a nervous stammer – “Justice has been rendered powerless?”

Who could have – when even Lord Kliff was defeated? No one man could have the skill and power to destroy Justice like this… but the evidence was there. The Lord of all Gears lay broken and useless before him, and on the rocks around him, marks of the fight – telltale signs…

“This flame, and lava... it was him...”

Sol.

But this was not the time to wonder how, or why. This was a time for action – by the lord, if there ever was a time for action, now was it.

“Magical Unit, forward!” he cried, calling out to the remnants of the Holy Army that still answered to his command. ”We will seal Justice!”

Under the light of a hundred-year moon, the two hopes met in battle. In 2175, the long Holy War ended with the sealing of Justice. Humanity returned to the road of peace, but the blood-soaked tragedy hidden behind the scenes...

Those who know the true meaning behind it are still few.


----------

Ky put a hand on the rotting lintel and peered inside. The church stood in a clearing devoid of life. Once, this place had teemed with life, a verdant centre to a bustling town. No more though. Not since those days… Inside, the air was musty, stale, like no-one had passed through here in years. Most likely, he was the first living thing to breathe this air since the Crusades.

The destruction of this city… had happened a long time before, but the walls of this place cried out to him in pain. The government said it was quick and easy - it was amazing what could be hushed up when it needed to be. Stepping over the porch, he brushed aside a cobweb and began to pace slowly down the aisle.

The Guilty Gear case. Years upon years of searching for an answer, a reason for the madness that had overtaken his world. Years of fighting, struggling against the odds. Justice. Dizzy. And now this new organisation, the Shuusen Kanrikyoku, as they called themselves. Or at least, that was the name their lackeys used. Who knew who they were really?

Ky Kiske didn’t. Someone must.. that man, perhaps. All the signs pointed to him, whoever he was, but something just didn’t add up. The red witch seemed at odds with the Shuusen, and she was definitely in the service of ‘That Man.’ If only he could discover the key, that one cryptic clue that would lead him to the culprits – then he could stop those damned robotic clones of him, and by god he would make this world whole again!

….There he went again. Taking the Lord’s name in vain. He found himself doing that more and more these days. Always unconciously, of course, but… was he being punished for it? Or was the Lord saving it to strike him when he least expected it? Reaching the end of the aisle, he perched on a pew and looked around at the ruins. The roof – what existed of it – hung loose, flapping in the wind. As he looked up to the darkening sky, a drop of rain hit his face, running down his cheek to collect on the point of his chin. Under the violet light of an autumn evening, Ky held up one hand and almost laughed.

“It never rains, but it pours.” he chuckled to himself, standing again and adjusting the sheath of his sword – the Fuuraiken. Walking slowly over to the altar, he brushed a thick layer of dust off and uprighted a candlestick. It was a shame, a place like this left to the ravages of time. Too many things were spoiled by the Crusades, by the Gears. And by him, by Sol.

Sol Badguy – a pseudonym for sure, but hiding what? That man was deserving of an entire division to himself. Holding the Fuuenken that should be in the Holy Order’s vaults, and walking around with his secrets – that man knew too much that he wasn’t sharing! Everything about Sol taunted him again and again. Kliff’s failed student, and yet it was he who defeated Justice all those years ago…rumours were even flying around to the effect that he was the one who found the rogue Gear, Dizzy, not that Jam Kuradoberi who claimed the reward.

Sol Badguy. Head suspect in the Guilty Gear case, and still at large. Ky had tried to make friends with him once, back in the Order, but they were so different, too different. The Lord moved in mysterious ways, and one of those ways was Sol, it would seem. Some called him an act of God himself, a name Ky shuddered to hear. One day, Ky had vowed, he would find Sol and make him answer – for Justice, for Dizzy, for everything he had done.

A heavy splash of water startled him out of his reverie. The rain was starting to pelt down heavily now, and Ky’s coat sleeves were damp and dripping already. Not much remained for him here, just… just the reason he came here. Kneeling at the altar, he pulled his palms together and closed his eyes.

“Our father, who art in heaven..”

No. Not that one.

“Dear Lord. Please remember this hallowed ground. What once was lost has been reclaimed, and your servant will always remain by your side, your will to serve. And forgive and remember those who lost their lives here – in defense and tyranny, all are equal in thy eyes. Have mercy upon their souls… and… guide your messenger to enlightenment. Amen.”

The first was a standard plea – travelling through cities broken by the war, you learned to reiterate your requests – but the last part was a personal plea. It was here that everything happened, everything came to a head, all those years ago. The Crusades… sometimes a distant memory, and then sometimes he could relive events in his head like they were happening there and then. Right now, he could almost feel the heat of the fires raging thourgh the city.

Too many had died for the sake of justice.

And too many more had died for the sake of Justice.

Justice. The Gear who led the armies that had ravaged the world – and then it was found on the verge of death. That was the second time Sol Badguy had escaped from him, and it most definitely hadn’t been the last. One day, he would catch him, and they would finally settle their long feud. The Fuuenken would return to America where it belonged, and Sol would be…. Ky didn’t know what would happen to Sol. It was a topic he avoided thinking about.

But that was for the future, and he was not here for that. Right here, eight long years before, Ky had made a promise. Upon his honour as a knight, he would never let another innocent die a violent death. In the Lord’s name, he would strive to keep the peace to the best of his abilities. It was a vow he had kept to this day, and – and he started out of his reverie as a shadow fell over him. A familiar smell wafted past, and a voice rang out, cutting into any train of thought he might have built up, brushing it aside and trampling it into the dirt.

“Yo.”


Baka // Black Angel // Salva Nos

"I'm not good- looking enough to be party leader." - Robin Cook

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Exeter Posted: 03-10-2003 , 02:22 PM

Rock You

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

~Man on the Prowl~
Sol Badguy--Greatest Hits, Track 1


The tendril of smoke rose idly into the crisp afternoon air, silent and carefree, undaunted by any recollections of the past or premonitions of the future, concerned with naught but its own boundless freedom.

The tiny flame from whence it had arisen, meanwhile, found itself content to rest upon the end of its cylindrical fuel source, seemingly unaware that it was gradually destroying that which gave it life. It looked up at the smoke reprovingly, as if to say,

‘it's better to burn out than to fade away.’

--gimme the prize gimme the prize--

The flame was soon proven right, or so it thought. A low, foreboding howl was all the warning the smoke had before a sudden gust sent it reeling, dissipating until all that remained was a dim haze.

‘See what your freedom gets you?’ the flame scoffed. Thinking oneself worthy of true freedom was a path to ruin. Better to take what you were given while it lasted, and not reach for that which was unattainable.

The flash of lightning overhead served a fitting reply as the rain began to fall, and the flame could only hiss as it was snuffed out.

Freedom and frailty, strength and slavery. The smoke and the flame. Either choice would be perilous, and to brave the two together was sheer madness.

--sheer heart attack--

And yet the source of both endured despite the coming storm.

For a moment, anyway.

As a final prayer to a pair of fallen friends, the man paused to look up at the cloudy gray sky thoughtfully, heedless of the rain sliding off his brow. He then glanced down to the flame’s final resting place on the end of the cylinder of life, which had already begun to fall from his outstretched fingers.

“Cheap fucking cigarettes,” he muttered, reaching into his pocket for another but finding it empty.

Tugging on the hood of his gray-green cloak in disgust, he continued up the cobblestone path.

And, on a whim, he began to keep pace with the beat in his head...

Steve walks warily down the street
With his brim pulled way down low
Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet
Machine guns ready to go


Stepping over a pile of rubble, the man tapped the corner of the ruined building on his left with his flat-ended broadsword Fuuenken, also known as the Fireseal.

It seemed familiar, somehow, that building...

Are you ready hey are you ready for this?
Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?


His eyes narrowed.

It had been a day much like this one, in fact...

Out of the doorway the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat yeah


And Frederick Nash, alias Sol Badguy, remembered...

His battle cry echoing through the city, Floyd Decker charged the first Gear with all the fury of Heaven.

Shrugging as if to apologize for its actions, the humanoid Gear batted the boy’s sword aside and buried its clawed hand into his ribs, lifting his quivering body high into the air.


--crunch--

Another one bites the dust

The pool of rain and blood formed an intricate pattern at his feet.

Another one bites the dust

“Floyd!”


Decker’s cousin, Louis. Dead two days later.

And another one gone

“No!”


Ky Kiske.

And another one gone

In response to the cries of anguish, the Gear tossed Floyd’s body into the general store beside him.

Another one bites the dust

Floyd crumpled and lay still, and the wall collapsed around him.

It was a fitting burial.


Most were left in the street to rot, back then, especially that close to the end...Decker had been lucky.

Hey I'm gonna get you too

Well, in a manner of speaking.

The Gear took a step forward, daring the next foolhardy hero to try his luck.

Another one bites the dust

And then it smirked.


He would always remember that smirk.

And the beat stopped dead.

“Knights, hold steady!” Kliff ordered, his voice raspy with age but nonetheless strong.

The swordsmen on either side of him, little more than boys, nodded in assent and prepared for the onslaught.

And the Gears marched forward.


It had been...eight years? Nine? He had lost track.

Time was meaningless to him now...

...as were thoughts of that which was already said and done.

He couldn’t save the fallen.

All he was capable of was causing more death.

This time, though...this would be the last.

Then it would be over.

And the beat began again...

Are you happy are you satisfied?
How long can you stand the heat
Out of the doorway the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat

look out


And, just as quickly as it had begun, it was gone.

The church stood before him, at least in his mind, as proudly as it had during the Crusades.

Just like how it had looked the day he had left them all to die.

--all dead all dead--

Shaking his head, Sol paused just outside the door, the Fireseal gripped firmly.

If his information was accurate, and it seldom was not...

He would be there.

Waiting.

Along with I-no and Raven, hopefully.

And at last...the end.

The former knight ran a finger along his headband
--rock you--
as something within him stirred.

Something...feral.

--dragon attack--

No...not yet.

It would be time for that soon enough.

He was dead on time, after all.

And Sol, the Guilty Gear, stepped through the doorway to face--

Kiske!?

The young French swordsmen knelt at the altar, absorbed in his prayers.

Hypocrite...

Had the boy still learned nothing?

Justice. Hah.

Aloud, he uttered but one word.

“Yo.”

Another one bites the dust

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Kellios Posted: 03-10-2003 , 05:29 PM

Ex-Turk

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: Alone

quote:
Originally posted by colguile
Damn, thats some long ass shit.

Glad I picked a simple yet kickass character whom only speaks english.



Ha! Just you wait XD


As I stand here today with the world as my witness, I pledge to you my undying and everlasting love. I will stand beside you as your partner, I will stand before you as your protector, And I will stand behind you as your solace. Please spend and end your life with me.

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Lantis Posted: 03-10-2003 , 06:14 PM

Death roams next door

Registered: Mar 2001
Location: Between hell and a world filled with grief. Take your pick

INTRO

A dark figure looms in the obscure corners of a high mountain. The full moon glares its' luminous face upon the forest which spreads out beneath the huge stone behemoth. The clock nears 9:00 pm, and the sinister shape silthers out of a small cave located near the peak of the mountain.

The shadows seem to follow his path. His eyes have the rage of murder, and his eerie smile, the scent of death. He glances at the vast scenery that spreads beneath him. A semi-cold wind begins to blow, waving his long white hair in the precious night. In his hand, shines the cold steel of his lethal blade...and his aura summons for the blood of many. His very essence itself, is the testimony of many haunted souls who have died in battle.

Setsuna watches a falcon fly closely around him. He stretches out his hand, and the falcon lands on his forearm. He smiles as he pets his animal friend.

"My dear friend...gaze upon our moment of triumph! Before us extends the greatest battle of all...dozens of fighters to slay at our pleasure! The blood of the brave...it confuses itself with the scream of the damned! And I...*I* am the one who shall rise triumphant over the bodies of the weak!"

Evil laughter bursts out through the valley. The eerie swordsman, Setsuna, has set his sight on the upcoming tournament. And no one can stop his lust for blood....


Want to take me on another time? Sorry, life is too short to wait for your brain to assimilate your stupidity.

*First Champion of SRK Survivor Tournament - Character: Rock Howard
*6th place in SRK Survivor Tournament II - Character: Kibagami Genjuro
*6th place in SRK Character Battle Poll - Character: Flik

She once believed in every story he had to tell.
One day she differed, took the other side.
Empty stares from each corner of a shared prison cell.
One just escaped, one is left in side the rails.
He who forgets will be destined to remember.

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m121akuma Posted: 03-10-2003 , 10:16 PM

t3h 3v1l av: Part 2

Registered: Apr 2001
Location: Southfield, MI. Bitches.

Destiny works in mysterious ways. Take for example the case of Mr. Dan Hibiki, Pimpmasta extrordanaire.
***

Dan was in his office at Shotopimps HQ, meditating. Of course, for him, that meant that he was lying back on his cushy chair, sippin' on pink lemonaide while his hoes give him a good foot massage. It was one of the few times he was ever able to truely relax and gather his thoughts after a hard day's work. His inner peace didn't last long, however, when his secretary, Morrigan, entered the room.

"Pimpdaddy Dan, there is a man here who wants to see you. He says it's urgent."

Dan was reasonably annoyed. "Bitch, don't interupt me when I'm becoming one with myself an' shit! Just tell him I'm busy."

Morrigan walked out of the room. Dan tried to clear his mind once more, but his concentration had been broken. He closed his eyes....and flashed them open as he heard a slap from outside his office. His hoes ran to the corner of his office in terror. Dan quickly ran out to investigate.

The hall was filled with baby powder. Dan squinted though the fog of skin care formula to see Morrigan lying on the ground, a huge red mark on her cheek. Standing obove her was an enormous figure, wrapped in a large, black cloak. His hand was extended in front of him, open, baby powder spewing from his palm.

"Who the Hell are you!?" was all the Pimpmasta could manage to say.

"I have been looking for you Mr. Hibiki. Your destiny awaits you."

"What are you talking about??!! I've got enough trouble here in Detroit without all of this lame-ass destiny shit. Pimpin' ain't easy, you know."

The figure was not impressed. "You are a great warrior. You are needed for the battle to come." He snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, a large portal appeared beneath Dan, sucking him through. "YOU SONUVA!!!!!" was the last that was heard of him.

Pleased, the figure reached into his cloak and pulled out his "To Do List".

"Wait...I was supposed to get THAT Hibiki?! The chick with the sword? Aw shit! Maybe nobody will notice...."


Southfield Board of Education: Prepared to be Schooled

quote:
Originally posted by Starhammer
SRK.com is the new evercrack. All we need is some Idiot to kill someone and blame SRK.com for it, and its status will be irreversible.

-Starhammer-


---Team Southfield Website---

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m121akuma Posted: 03-10-2003 , 10:23 PM

t3h 3v1l av: Part 2

Registered: Apr 2001
Location: Southfield, MI. Bitches.

Oh, and props to Exeter and Baka for great intros. Wow...


Southfield Board of Education: Prepared to be Schooled

quote:
Originally posted by Starhammer
SRK.com is the new evercrack. All we need is some Idiot to kill someone and blame SRK.com for it, and its status will be irreversible.

-Starhammer-


---Team Southfield Website---

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Baka Posted: 03-11-2003 , 06:03 AM

Heaven or Hell?

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

Thanks akuma - and there's more to come


Baka // Black Angel // Salva Nos

"I'm not good- looking enough to be party leader." - Robin Cook

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Netz Ausg Posted: 03-11-2003 , 02:26 PM

Junior Member

Registered: Mar 2003
Location:

Part One

Newspapers blew about the streets of Madripoor, the sea wind catching them and making a stream of litter flow along alleys and roads. The docks were quiet that night, instead of the usual night time hustle and bustle of late night deliveries. Stepping down from the step of one of the less reputable drinking establishments of the harbour a lone figure dropped a glowing cigar and stamped it out.

Moving down and along the alley behind the building, stepping over a battered and bruised drunk, he made his way to the pier.

Arriving in good time he leant against a railing and lit up a second cigar. Pulling his hat’s peak lower down, he blew out a long stream of smoke and sniffed the air.

“Glad you could make it Creed,” he muttered between gritted teeth, “Been wonderin’ if you’d show.”

A shadow removed it self from the hut at the end of the pier and purposefully stalked to the side of the leaning man. Stuffing his hands in his pocket, the one who had been waiting grunted his acknowledgement and stood beside him.

“Who’re we waitin’ for now?”

The man named Creed nodded toward the warehouses at the other end of the docks and said “Just about half the Yakuza and the Hand if your less than subtle approach was noticed. We’re gonna have to sort out your tactics Logan.”

Letting a noncommittal sound, Logan simply folded his arms and closed his eyes before taking a long drag on his cigar. “We could use a good fight, it’s been too long since we tangled with these kids together. Maybe we can get those nails of yours polished later, but you can get your hands a little dirty every now and then.”

“Hah, that’ll be the same day you get your claws trimmed my friend.” Looking about him, Creed sniffed the air and frowned.

“You smell it too, huh?”

“Yeah, smells like clean

“Too clean, Creed.”

A dark object flew out of the night, embedding in the railing that both Logan and Creed had been leaning on a fraction of a second before. Within seconds the pier was full of red and black clothed men, all drawing swords and staffs, circling the two foreigners.

“Looks like they were payin’ attention after all.”

Creed sneared and ripped away his large jacket. “How about we teach ‘em to look the other way when it’s good for ‘em.”

“Deal.”


Two to tango...

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Bugenhagen Posted: 03-11-2003 , 10:28 PM

Hello, Mr. Forest Fairy!

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: Right behind you.

Author’s note: As these previous parts take hundreds of years before the events of Majora’s Mask, certain names and places common to the Zelda universe are somewhat altered to fill this age gap. Much of the terrain of Termina changed over the hundreds of years, languages have altered, and names change.



Pre-Survivor X
Part One, Section One

Creation

The trip was long, and Ma’hora was old, but he still managed to make the month-long journey every year. The old shaman remembered back when he was a student of his father, fourty-four years ago, climbing the Snowhead mountain range to gather the essential herbs for their small tribe. Years and journeys later, Ma’hora was still taking the long journey, and eagerly awaited the time when he would take his own son, who was also learning to be a shaman.

But not this year. Next year, he would be ready.

As always, Ma’hora had traveled the forests and climbed the mountains to reach the peak. There, he had lived with the rock people, the Gho-rons, and had spent a month gathering and preserving the herbs that he used in medicines and rituals throughout the year. After he had collected enough to fill several packs, he caught a ride with the fish-men, the Zoh-rons, who would ferry him back to their seaside village. Although the Zoh-rons, an amphibious species, rarely sailed, their knowledge of the waters and seas made them good sailors, and they were more than willing to go a little out of their way to help the old shaman.

The Zoh-rons left him a little ways away from shore. Ma’hora always paddled the last mile alone.

As he softly glided through the morning mist and calm sea, he coul hear the voice of Alea. ”I’ll be back here in a month,” he remembered telling her. ”You can wait for me here.” Alea was six, energetic, and also madly in love with Ma’hora, though they were sixty years apart in age. Her cheerfulness and confidence always made him laugh, and he treated her like a granddaughter. Her father, Odolwa, was the village chief, and he was more than happy to have someone to be a good role model for his daughter.

“Ma’hora’s back! Ma’hora’s back!” screamed Alea giddily. As Ma’hora neared the beach, he could see the figures of Alea and her young friends running toward his boat. As his boat scraped the sandy bottom, Ma’hora jumped out, kneeled down, and welcomed Alea with open arms.

“Ma’hora! You’re back!” she said, giving him a large hug. “Did’ja get me anything?”

“Of course,” replied Ma’hora. He reached into his belt and pulled out a single flower, dried and pressed, but still beautiful. It’s pure white petals seemed to glisten, dry though they were.

“This is a Snow Lilly,” he said, giving it to her. Alea held it reverently. “These only bloom in the winter, and high in the mountains. I was lucky to find it, and when I saw it, I immediately thought of you.”

Alea giggled. “Thanks, Ma’hora,” she replied, tying the long stem to her tan dress. She gave the old shaman a quick peck on the cheek, then ran off to her friends, who were all very impressed by the gift.

“Ma’hora!” shouted a familiar voice. Ma’hora turned to see a figure running toward him.

“Odolwa!” Ma’hora replied as he recognized the young chief. Odolwa gave the old man a brotherly hug, and grinned.

“It’s about time you came back, Ma’hora. We haven’t had rain since you left. Things haven’t been the same.”

“All things in good time, my old friend,” replied Ma’hora. Catching his boat before it drifted off, he and Odolwa managed to pull it up to shore. Odolwa nodded at the generous ammount of herbs that Ma’hora had managed to gather.

“We’ll need it, you know,” remarked Odolwa, resting on a large piece of driftwood. Odolwa was only twenty-eight, and in top physical condition, but his face was that of an old man. Ma’hora knew at once that the month in which he was gone wasn’t the most pleasant of times.

“What troubles you?” asked Ma’hora, concerned, as he carefully sat down next to Odolwa, minding his back.

“The list is too long to count,” said Odolwa, miserably. “We haven’t had a drop of rain since months and months ago, and we need it for our sowing season. Several tribesman have taken ill, and even your son was not able to cure them. Several thieves came during one of the nights- Ikana, probably- and stole most of our livestock. Oh, and to top it off, the Ikana- they haven’t accepted our offering this year.”

Ikana was a great and cruel empire to the east. They worshiped pagan gods, and were capable of producing strong weapons that made the Arbolim’s- Ma’hora’s tribe- look like a joke. Years ago, the Ikana and Arbolim had fought, resulting in a great defeat of the Arbolim people. They now had to pay an offering of crops to the Ikana people in exchange for their freedom. “They wouldn’t accept it?” wondered Ma’hora. “But why?”

“Something about it being too small.” Odolwa made a fist. “We weren’t able to give anything else! If we had sent more before the winter, we wouldn’t have enough to survive. I sent your son to smooth over the deal.”

“You sent Majora?” Ma’hora asked, concerned. “How did it go?”

“He returned this morning, but I couldn’t get much information from him. He seemed... distant. However, from the sound of it, he reached some sort of an agreement with the Ikana. We shouldn’t have to worry about last year’s offering anymore.”

Ma’hora slowly got up. “I need to speak with him.” He slowly walked up the beach towards the village.

“But wait!” cried Odolwa. “What about the other problems? The drought? The disease?”

Ma’hora paused, then laughed his old, hearty laugh. “All things in good time, Odolwa. We’ll have a ritual tonight for rain. I’ll aid the sick in the morning. But now, I have work to do.”



The large hut seemed empty at first glance, but Ma’hora could tell by Majora’s neglect to clean up after himself that he had been home all day. Majora’s satchel was to the right of the door, where he had probably thrown it upon return.

“Majora?” called Ma’hora into the dark hut. “Are you here?” There were many rooms in the extravagant dwelling; simply because Ma’hora didn’t see his son didn’t mean that he wasn’t there.

There seemed to be no answer at first, but as Ma’hora turned to exit, he herd Majora’s voice. “I’m here,” called Majora’s voice, distantly. Ma’hora made his way through the mess of the entry room and came to his 17-year-old son’s room. Majora was leaning out the window, watching the people of his village. It might have been Ma’hora’s imagination, but he could almost see a look of discontent on his son’s face.

“Odolwa tells me that you went to Ikana about the offering,” said Ma’hora.

“Yes,” replied Majora, without turning around.

The old shaman paused. “Will they attack?” he asked.

Majora shook his head. “No.”

Ma’hora frowned. Something was wrong. “Are you alright, Majora?” he asked, concerned.

Majora simply shrugged.

Ma’hora turned to leave. As he walked through the doorway, he heard Majora’s voice. “It won’t work,” he said.

Ma’hora faced his son and tilted his head to the side. “What won’t work?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“The ritual tonight. The rain summoning. It won’t work.”

“Who told you that we were having a ritual tonight?” asked Ma’hora, frowning. “And what makes you think that the Forest will not answer?”

Majora turned and faced his father. “I know you will do something about the rain as soon as possible because I know you,” he answered, “and I know about the ritual because you taught me everything there is to know about being a shaman.”

“Not everything,” said Ma’hora, sharply.

“Enough,” replied Majora. “And I know that it won’t work because... because the ritual has no power.”

In two steps, Ma’hora crossed the room and slapped Majora across his face. “Wherever did you hear lies like those?” he asked, practially spitting with fury. But deep down, he knew.

“In Ikana,” Majora replied simply. He looked out the window. “In Ikana, there’s an irrigation system that brings water from the deep canyon into a stream that flows through the city. In Ikana, nobody goes hungry, nobody needs to pay a tax to a greater country. They have great entities of magic- ‘machines’- that do incredible things for people, such as lift huge boulders high in the air or stop the very water from the river from flowing.”

“The people of Ikana also worship a great bloody god who has a necklace of human skulls. Would you have us worship that?” replied Ma’hora bitterly.

“If necessary!” shouted Majora, hotly. “What are gods, anyway, except tools that leaders use to control the people? What does it matter if they worship silly trees or an all-powerful god?”

Ma’hora gritted his teeth. This was too different- too unlike Majora. His eyes caught something. “What’s that?” he asked, looking at a pendant around Majora’s neck. “What’s that around your neck?” Majora’s hand went up to conceal it, but not before his father had realized the shape. It was a heart, painted black, with ten spearheads protruding from it.

The Ikana symbol for human sacrifice.

Ma’hora was quiet. He spoke in a whisper. “You’re one of them...”

Majora looked down at his pendant and laughed. “One of ‘them’? You make it seem so dangerous! Yes, I partook in their ritual, in order to save our village. Would you have done anything else? The Emperor took an especial liking to me. If we want, with a snap of my fingers, we can become the newest addition to the Ikana Empire.” Majora’s black eyes were gleaming with excitement.

Ma’hora could barely comprehend what he was hearing. “You went to Ikana, you drank the blood of another man, you wish for our village to become a part of what you pledged your life to, and you expect me to consent with that?”

Majora spread his arms wide. “The end justifies the means, father! Why, in a single year, we could have enough food to feed ten times the number of people here! I’m sure that in time, your personal moral qualms will diminish.”

Ma’hora simply shook his head. “Never.”

Majora’s smile faded.

Ma’hora pointed towards the forest. “Get out. You are exiled. Go to Ikana, go to Hell, it makes no difference to me. I never want to see you again.”

Ma’hora’s word was final. Majora gathered up his things and left the village in an hour. That was the last time that Ma’hora saw his son face-to-face.

Later that day, before Ma’hora told anyone of his son’s exile, Odolwa spoke to the shaman about his son. “I saw Majora entering the forest this afternoon. I hope he doesn’t get hurt. I worry about him.”

Ma’hora looked distantly into the forest. “I don’t worry about Majora,” he told his friend. “I worry about us.”

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Bugenhagen Posted: 03-11-2003 , 10:34 PM

Hello, Mr. Forest Fairy!

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: Right behind you.

Pre-Survivor X
Part One, Section Two

Creation


“Get out. You are exiled. Go to Ikana, go to Hell, it makes no difference to me.”

”It makes no difference to me.”

”Get out.”

Majora shed no tears as he left his village, but he started crying as he tore through the trees. He didn’t know why his father rejected his idea so strongly. It certainly didn’t sound so wrong when the Emperor told him weeks ago.

A small part of his mind told him that he did think that it was wrong, before the ritual. Majora ignored the voice.

Being born and raised in a forested area, Majora knew the woods well. He deftly jumped over fallen trees and wove between trunks, making his way quickly through the overgrowth. He didn’t have a destination in mind; he simply went where his feet took him.

“And what’s wrong with a sacrifice now and again if it contributes to the peace of the village?” muttered Majora to himself. “If I were shaman, I would create a sacrifice, and I would summon rain ten times as heavy as anything father could call. The shores would be flooded by my simple command. If only I could make a sacrifice.”

Without noticing, Majora had entered a clearing. He came out of his thoughts and looked around. Here, standing in a perfect cross, stood five tall redwood trees, stretching hundreds of miles into the sky. The sheer height of these wooden goliaths was mind-boggling.

”Sanctuary,” whispered Majora.

It was a holy place of the Arbolim- a place where the prayers of the people came down from the heavens to be answered. Majora had never been here before, but his father had told him stories enough for him to know where he was. This was where his people gathered in the last battle between them and the Ikana, the only place where they feared to go. This was where each new shaman came to state his case to the forest and become the prophet for his people. These five trees held more magic in their sap than any Ikana god could hope to obtain.

But the trees were an Arbolim religion, Majora reminded himself. Not an Ikana. To be Ikana, the end had to justify the means. There had to be a sacrifice.

And it was then that Majora had an idea.

He strode carefully, as if trying not to disturb anything. He eyed up each tree, trying to make a decision. He settled on the middle tree and set his satchel on the ground. The Arbolim people often carried hand axes with them, to cut the overgrowth and encourage new trees to grow. With the determination of the people he had left, he began cutting away at the tree.

What better to sacrifice than the hopes and dreams of those who abandoned you?



Odolwa sought out Ma’hora at dusk. “Ma’hora, storm clouds cover the skies. Have you begun the ritual yet? And why haven’t you invited us?”

Ma’hora looked skywards at the dark clouds billowing in the red sky. “This is not my doing,” he pronounced slowly. “Neither is it nature. It is Majora.”

Odolwa had been told earlier of Majora’s exile. “But rain is rain, is it not?” he asked Ma’hora. “Why should we fear it when the rain would help?”

Ma’hora shook his head. “It’s an Ikana saying- ‘the end justifies the means’. I fear that in order to try and become my superior, he has resorted to something horrible...”

Odolwa didn’t quite grasp what Ma’hora was saying. “What are we to do, then?”

“Gather ten of your strongest warriors,” said Ma’hora. “We go to Sanctuary tonight.”



A tree as large as this one wouldn’t fall easily, and Majora realized that quickly enough. Even if he had a week out here, with only his tomahawk, he wouldn’t be able to make much of a dent in the tree. It was as large around as his hut at home, and Majora had only made a cut about an inch deep. The teenager wiped his brow and sat down.

All of Sanctuary seemed to be in chaos. The winds blew strong, whipping the grasses wildly. Small animals quivered in the smaller trees, as if unable to sit still from fear. Majora dug into his satchel and pulled out a wicked, jagged knife- a sacrificial knife given to him by the emperor. Majora ran his finger across the blade. It was sharp. Out of frustration, he slammed it into the side of the tree.

A deep groan came out of the wood. Sap, red like blood, oozed from the wound.

Majora paused. He pulled the knife from the wood, which was covered in the sticky, bitter sap. Standing up, he carved into the wood with the cruel blade. He carved a great heart- the heart of the tree, he imagined- and carved ten spearheads protruding from it. The Ikana symbol of human sacrifice. The tree moaned at the touch of the knife, and when Majora finished his drawing, the tree shuddered.

A thin line, appearing where Majora had cut with the hand-axe, spread across the diameter of the trunk. Then slowly, the tree began to fall. Majora watched in wonder as the hundred-foot giant simply fell. It landed with a great crash, destroying the trees in its path.

One of the Five Giants was dead.

Majora leapt onto the tree trunk, walking across to the leaves at the ‘top’. A single fruit, golden-colored, lay, begging to be picked. Majora plucked it from the branches and walked back to the stump, where he proceeded to eat. He tossed the pit onto the ground near the trunk and turned to his carving, now facing towards the sky.

At the touch of his hand, the bark fell off of the wood where the knife had cut. A yellow eye glared up at him.

Majora jumped back, then approached cautiously. He felt drawn to it. He peeled the bark away to reveal what had been created inside. Lying under his carving, glowing slightly in the dusk, was a mask. It was in the shape of the Ikana symbol, but had two glowing eyes at the end. It was painted in red and blue, except for where the eyes, which were a haunting yellow.

“I made this?” Majora asked himself. He lifted the mask into his hands.

“I made this.”



As soon as the rains began, Ma’hora clutched his chest and kneeled down, wincing in pain. Odolwa, who walked close to his shaman, noticed at once. “Stop! Everyone!” Odolwa kneeled down next to Ma’hora and looked into his face. “Are you alright?”

Ma’hora slowly shook his head. “No... he has... killed me,” he pronounced slowly. His breaths came in short gasps.

“Who has killed you?” asked Odolwa, sweating. “Did I do something? Was it Majora?”

Ma’hora tried to answer, but his throat was caught. He just nodded, jerkily.

“But how?” asked Odolwa. “How could he have...?”

Ma’hora swallowed, and his voice came back to him, hoarsely. “He has made himself... a god. Please... my friend. Kill him. Before he kills us all.”

Odolwa shook his head. “I can’t do that. He’s your son.”

“No,” replied Ma’hora, as his eyes relaxed, drifting up to the heavens. Rain splattered on them, but he didn’t blink. He didn’t have the will to blink. “Not anymore. Now, you... are my son.”

And there, lying in the mud, the old man breathed his last. Odolwa and his men said a quick prayer, and two carried his body back to the village. The rest had unfinished business to take care of.

They encountered Majora in the clearing. He was standing on the stump where the fifth great tree once stood. His back was to the men, and he seemed to be simply... staring. Staring at nothing, Odolwa pulled back his bowstring, ready to fire, now that he had a chance.

“Is the old man dead?” Majora asked, quietly.

Odolwa paused. He let the string go slack.

“I asked you a question. Is my father dead?”

Odolwa nodded, slowly. “... Yes.”

“Good,” declared Majora. He slowly turned to meet the eight gathered. Upon his head, he wore a mask with great, glowing eyes which seemed to pierce the souls of the men there. Terror was in the hearts of the men.

“I am the shaman now,” he said slowly. “Shaman... Chieftain... God.” He smiled to himself, though none could see it under his mask. Thoughts of defeating Majora fled Odolwa’s head.

The Mask had commanded. He would obey.



--

Heh. Here I'm preaching about long post length, and I end up making a 8-page post for a single part of my intro. Expect two or three more parts to come, unless my wrists fall off.

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S-Chicken Boner Posted: 03-12-2003 , 02:41 AM

Martian Successor

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

Exclamation

In the beginning...

Twas a dark and stormy night.

Two seagulls were flying in front of a large, wooden, sailboat speeding towards the dock of a port city. Those birds spread out their wings and let the night's harsh winds carry them away to the back of the boat. Once there, they started firing their high-velocity powered droppings upon it.

As the bolts of avian guano bounced off of the deck of the vessel, with more inaccurate shots hitting the sea, lightning had struck from afar. The light it created revealed a figure on the ship, a red-haired, green-eyed man clad in armor along his shoulders, chest, shins, and feet over red cloth, with a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. But most importantly of all, he had a secret and extremely deadly technique: 1337 ramming skillz!

STARRING ADOL CHRISTIAN
AS
ADOL CHRISTIAN


The boat, still enduring the fire from the seagulls, smashed it's way through the wooden ports and landed on the wharf, where a pair of skeletons were randomly wandering.

A rope was flung from the boat to the wharf, which Adol climbed down.

Once down, Adol tracked down the wandering skeletons and rammed them. The ***zage was too much for them as bones flew everywhere.

However, the birds had not forgotten who they were out to kill and once again rained their lethal birdshit down upon Adol. Thankfully, as Adol is the hero of this story, any living thing trying to shoot him will have terrible aim. As the birds got within a foot of the warrior's head, they veered off, crossing each other's flight paths, wanting to get far enough to mount another strafing run.

Suddenly, a small object leapt from the landed boat, having the shape of a human head on a small stick. While in midair, its eyes fired two laser beams, cooking the bird they had targeted.

Lightning had struck again, revealing the old, worn, balding face of the man's head.

AND
THE LATE SIR ALEC GUINESS' HEAD ON A STICK
AS
THE LATE SIR ALEC GUINESS' HEAD ON A STICK


In freefall, Alec Guiness turned and fried the second bird, before landing on the ground, exclaiming "Deznwp!"

Suddenly, rising from their places in the crate-filled dock came an army of thousands of gangstas, armed with the finest rifles, machine guns, and bazookas known to man, which they had turned on Adol and Alec. "Etanutrofnu si siht," said the latter.

And such began an epic battle between the duo and the gangstas. Countless numbers were rammed, fried, and completely ***zed in the fighting.

When the army was about half dead, a figure of an old man in a business suit fell from the sky. The fire in his eyes was burning red, telling him to grasp victory.

GUEST-STARRING
FORMER REPUBLICAN SENATOR ROBERT DOLE


"Bob Dole is gonna stomp a mudhole in your ass!" the ex-senator yelled as he pulled a small bottle of viagra from his pocket, and chugged the pills down his throat. Afterwards, a great aura surrounded his body, and he was ready for action.

Lasers fired from Dole's eyes, destroying various crates, narrowly missing Adol, while Alec returned fire with his own.

After dodging a few beams, Adol moved in shield first, which was fortunate for it was about to absorb a laser blast, pushing the swordsman backwards.

Adol moved in again, this time having his shield endure Bob Dole's fire breath. But when the politician ran out of breath, defeat came upon him.

"Aaaah! The ***zage!" Bob Dole screamed, as Adol laid down upon him just that.

"Yo dog. He ***zed Bob Dole!" one gangsta anxiously whispered to another.

"We gonna fuck him up somehow," another replied.

And so the battle continued, despite more heavy firepower, the gangstas fell to Adol and Alec's skillz.

After the skirmish was over and they advanced, they came upon a gigantic purple and green robot with yellow eyes.

AND
EVANGELION UNIT-01


The Eva dropped the proportionately large machine gun in it had in its hands, which landed with a giant "CLANK!" And then proceeded to use it's now-free hands to grip it's head as if it were in pain.

Adol took advantage of the situation and rammed the mech in the toe section of its right foot, sending it flying through the air and then dropping with a humungous explosion following.

Adol walked forward as Alec did the same, hopping on his stick, unaware of the journey that awaited them.

ADOL CHRISTIAN: THE ***ZAGE!
STORY BY: BONER THE SUPER CHICKEN
SPECIAL THANKS TO: CARLY


"So that's how you fooled them!" - Aeris Gainsborough, Final Fantasy VII

Last edited by S-Chicken Boner on 03-12-2003 at 02:44 AM

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CarlyCheeese Posted: 03-12-2003 , 09:37 AM

Scarlet Rain Silence

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: Feudal Japan

Cru.

Pure and utter genius.

XD

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S-Chicken Boner Posted: 03-12-2003 , 10:30 AM

Martian Successor

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

Exclamation Anything to do with how I described Mr. Dole's eyes? ;)

(*bows*)

Thank you, Carly. As always, I aim to please.


"So that's how you fooled them!" - Aeris Gainsborough, Final Fantasy VII

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Switchblade Posted: 03-12-2003 , 11:11 AM

Road Warrior

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: In your fridge, behind the mayo

Crusader, man, lay off the crack. Seriously. We're worried about you.

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Soujiro Seta Posted: 03-12-2003 , 11:42 AM

The Silver Ogre

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: Beyond Death

It's stories like that, Crusader, that make me want to choose humorous characters to sponsor. Of course, if I ever did, you'd all find out how bad my humor is...

And I can't, in good conscience, not like a story that involves both Viagra-powered Bob Dole and a mention of Alec Guiness.

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Mith Galtirglin Posted: 03-12-2003 , 03:22 PM

Follow the snowflies...

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

And here is the first of what I'll assume to be four sections, yet again. They don't stop talking...

This one's for you, Darkken. Thank you for saving my vacation and my status in the fandom.


------

· * ·

Survivor X; Manifest Destiny

Father Grissom Laertatisson

Vagrant Story



I asked of my brother that I be permitted to follow him, and he denied me this.
I asked of my brother that he stay, and he denied me this.
I asked of my brother that I may see through his eyes, and look upon his workings.
And my brother allowed me the sight of the Forest, and those who walked in it, for that was where his errands then lay.

(1 Joshua 7.2-5)


Prologue
Section A


X

With his hands free of the staff, he pressed his palms together and closed his eyes for a moment, breathing and remembering. He only opened his eyes as the position of his hands changed, separating the palms and pressing only the tips of his index and central fingers together. He raised that form to just above his eyes, so that his vision was blocked by his supportive fists. After this, the tracing began; his fingers separated to form the sides of a small triangle in the air before his eyes, and then together again in a straight line down to his waist. There they parted again briefly to draw both sides of a horizontal line, and came together again. He lifted his hands back to heart-level, and traced the last; two upward, short diagonal lines, then together; two downward, short diagonal lines, together. That done, he sank to his knees. His hand clasped around the staff where he had thrown it down in his shock.

"Duane..." cold metal sword staff anchor weapon slew him was a blade sword curved Fandango dance sword dancer Müllenkamp Müllenkamp Müllenkamp "...Who...who did it?" your choice followed he only follows cleric soldier cleric mage cleric cleric Prophet Müllenkamp Müllenkamp Losstarot

Faendos, startled, stepped back and barely managed the words. "P-Parliament's man. Riot. Knight of the Peace."

knight peace parliament peace war death Duane

After being elbowed in the side by his companion, Faendos corrected himself. "R-Riskbreaker, Father Grissom. Their Riskbreaker. The one that f-followed us in."

followed Riskbreaker dog dog Guildenstern said dog death died a dog's death Duane Riot Riskbreaker dog cultist Müllenkamp Losstarot Riot death death His chapped, nicked knuckles whitened on the staff's hilt. The ornate head of the staff scraped across the ground, and Grissom growled. "Riskbreaker. Dog. May he burn." The staff scraped again. burn fire magic fire Guildenstern Dark Müllenkamp "How many others were there?" He tried to stop his chest from heaving.

"Here, Father?" Lamkin, the second, asked, confused. "The two that were with him. Sarjik, Bejart. They also fell. There may have been others before, and after..." He tapped Faendos again with his elbow, and the other Blade stepped forward, toward their commander.

"The Risbreaker left these behind," he said, holding out Sarjik's sharded rapier and the broken pole of what had once been a halberd--presumably Bejart's.

Grissom could only see the bottom of the pole, and followed it up to Faendos' hands with angry eyes, his back unarching as he sat back on his heels. sword broken sword broken staff guisarme staff staff Duane staff "Where is it?" he growled again, his tenor still trapped in the lower registers. The street dug into the palm of one of his hands. staff Magnolia Frau staff Duane's staff Riot dog Riot

"Where is what, Father?"

Riot dog staff Duane Magnolia "Duane's weapon. His staff." His voice was on its way back to its intended range. Sweat dripped from his hairline into his eyes--the sun burned in Leá Monde. burn Riot burn magic fire Dark

Faendos edged backward along the pavement, his hagane greaves scraping, masking the sound of Grissom's gritting teeth. "He...h-he left nothing."

Grissom's pale eyes froze. "...Nothing?" His timbre began to lower again. "Nothing?" nothing staff nothing robes nothing Duane gone Dark taken Riot taken dog Riot taken Riot Dark Müllenkamp

"Nothing, Father," Lamkin said, with a fair degree of courage, though his voice was softened courteously. "The Riskbreaker was after the key."

Duane robes taken Riot staff Magnolia Frau staff Duane key city lost surface lost Riskbreacker dog dog Riot taken staff taken Duane Riot may he burn dog burn in the fires of Hell magic fire Dark fire Dark Losstarot Riot Losstarot Müllenkamp Müllenkamp Dark city lost city we have lost the surface Duane taken he has taken the city the key the surface Riot Losstarot the Dark will follow taken the Dark he will take the Dark Riot dog Riot Riskbreaker dog Riot Duane Duane brother taken "He owns the surface, do you realize?" His breath hissed, his joints creaked, and he rose with the staff in hand, knuckles still white. "That dog owns the surface and you bring me useless, broken weapons?" His arm had lashed out, Shilleagh in hand, before he could stop himself. brother staff taken brother taken

There was a clank that may have passed for a slap, and a clatter that may have done the same. Faendos reared with a cry, clutching his ringing gauntlet to his chest, greaves scraping across the pavement. The broken sword and staff rolled a short distance away.

Grissom's knuckles were still white against the hilt of Shilleagh, even as he pulled it back toward himself. taken brother ringing metal staff silver Shilleagh Magnolia Shilleagh warm grip hand ringing Faendos hand ringing He breathed, and remembered. "...Faendos. Forgive me." hand ringing staff brother Duane brother in arms Faendos Lamkin brother in arms Guildenstern

"S-sir," Faendos managed. "F-father." He shook his hand out. It was his shield-hand, Grissom realized, and was glad of that.

sword need weapon need Riot weapon "He has taken the surface and the key." The Shilleagh slid down his hand until he was nearly cupping its ornate head, knuckles loosened about the silver-veined staff. "He has taken..." surface key brother "...does the Commander know?"

Lamkin nodded. Faendos' head was already lowered. The plumes of their helmets wavered in the city's currents; Dark or wind, Grissom could not be sure.

Dark wind Dark city taken Duane taken Bejart Sarjik Morganson Meyres Padraic Lucas Luricant taken gone left nothing nothing "And he has left no body, I assume?" nothing Dark nothing Dark Duane Guildenstern Müllenkamp

"Nothing," Lamkin said. "While the others at least left some armor..." He knew not how to finish the sentence.

nothing left dead grave staff robber staff grave robber Riot He took the time to breathe, but would not hang his head. "What are our orders from Guildenstern?"

"Same as they h-have been; 'Crush Müllenkamp', he sa--"

Lamkin interrupted. "He sent several of us after the Riskbreaker earlier. When none returned, he bade us hold the surface and wait for the hound to sniff us out."

The priest's eyebrows lowered with the corners of his lips. "Hold the surface? Walk amidst the filth that hound has used to mark his territory?" dog dog Risbreaker "I think not."

The Blades held their stance and marked their Commander. Grissom stood with his shoulders steadied against the Dark breeze, raising Shilleagh to its customary place in his belt. The Rose-Rood on the chest of his vestments was unshadowed, for the sun sat above the buildings behind Grissom. The priest cast a shade on his men and the street before him, lengthened and widened by the afternoon's light.

"He has taken the Crimson key," Grissom said in his proper voice, less hindered or masked by rage, "and if my perception of his purpose is correct, he will not stop with the Undercity. Parliament is our enemy in this, as much as if not more than those cultist dogs. Others have succeeded in making the cult howl for mercy; if not for that Riskbreaker the city would be wholly ours." Duane

The winds increased, though briefly. "Father? D-do you suggest we follow him?"

Duane brother taken Riot taken staff "Follow as a means to slay, Faendos. I must avenge my brother, and you your brethren-in-arms." He walked, parting the knights that served him, in the direction of Guildenstern's post. "Are you coming?"

The both responded with his title, and fell into step behind him. Men of God are not easily disobeyed.

· | ·

Sydney danced, though briefly, and though he could not be seen. Invisible and inaudible, his metal talons scraped over the cobblestones of the Undercity, drawing the eyes of the corpses who had them and could smell his blood. His arms wavered gracefully and potently, deliberate gestures accompanied by nonexistent drums. The dead (though they were already "awake", in the since-corrupted sense of the word) woke to him, as if a shining Lord had entered their peasantry and demanded their politeness without a word. The smell of blood inspired courage, hunger; the paternal Dark that enveloped the dancer comforted and assured. "There is food coming, though it is not I," he seemed to say. "Your Lord I serve, and you I cater to."

The dance was prompted by necessity and not pleasure, and so he did not smile in his movements. The young man's expression was solemn as his fair hair caught between his lips during a turn. Eyes closed, his feet still carried him toward a door; one of four at this crossroads, none of which he had entered by. Through that door he passed, without opening it.

The Rood-bearer continued to dance, taking the stairs that he encountered by increments of two and three. The Undercity was secure, and its dead were awake; enough so to test Riot, enough so to put Grissom in his place.

A hound I lend unto my Lady for her judgement, and a judge I lead unto my Lady for her hounding, he thought as the light of the Town Centre began to light his steps. He faded into visibility, though none were there to witness. Now, where might I find the Judge Superior?

The strands of hair that had caught between his lips during the dance fell into place as he began to walk. A shadow of a smirk replaced the solemn expression he had performed his rites with.

The rabbit has left his warren, Riskbreaker, Priest, and has left a ripe trail. Which of you will happen upon me first?

+


Et exultavit spiritus meus
In Deo salutari meo


Sponsoring Father Grissom in Survivor X. Amen.

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ShinkuuR Posted: 03-12-2003 , 03:26 PM

New College Grad! Whoo!

Registered: May 2001
Location: Savannah Ga

Rydia's Intro: Part 1 of 3


”I hate this job.”

The doctor took one last look at the dead body that laid on the operation table, and more importantly at the numerous bites and scratches that covered the man. He knew that no animal that lived could have possibly done those things, and he knew for a FACT that what did it wasn’t natural, but he was so used to these cases that it started not to bother him anymore...and that scared him more than anything.

“Alright guys. Wrap him up.”

The two assistants proceeded to seal up the body and prepare it for cremation, while the doctor walked out the door to give the report to the scientist that stood waiting for him.

“Well?”

“He didn’t make it. The bites ended up puncturing his lungs, and the head was...”

“Whatever, doc. Was he ‘clean’?” The doctor sighed quietly, inwardly cursing himself for thinking that the people who worked here had the slightest hint of compassion. People like this guy was the reason that he prayed every night, hoping that he can still retain a soul when he died...unlike this man. Even now the scientist’s hands were colored with marks of blood.

“Yes. His blood showed no signs of viral infection.” The scientist nodded his head in a monotone-like fashion while scribbling some notes down.

“Good. Can’t run the risk of creating things we can’t control, can we?” The doctor responded with a fake smile, which was his usual answer to the so called ‘humor’ of the scientists. “T-046B is ready for more extensive tests. Time to get started.”

And with that the scientist left, without so much as a shred of grief for the guard who died being a victim of his ‘tests’. No prayer. No tears. Not even a moment of silence. And the worse thing was that whatever family the guard had wouldn’t even know that he died until a couple of months later, and even then they would be told a ridiculous cover story that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Just another day at the G Corporation.

The doctor wished that he could be anywhere else but here. Graduating at the top of his class with a double major in medicine and biophysics, he thought that there would be job offers everywhere. Of course the economy saw things different, and with a wife and child to support, he had no choice but to take the job at G Corp. Even in college he knew that the company dealt in shady dealings, but the pay and his desperateness was enough to change his mind. And while he was able to experiment with radical advances in medicine, that did nothing to overshadow the insane and inhuman creatures and viruses that the scientists played with like a child’s toy. He knew that he was playing a part in the destruction of the world, and he cursed himself for it.
”I really hate this job” he thought, making his way into the lab and down the stairs to the cryosleep chamber where his next patient was waiting. With a couple of pushes of the control panel the door opened with a loud hissing sound, and after a couple of seconds the patient opened his eyes. The man climbed out of the chamber, and after looking over his body and stretching, he walked toward a small mirror in the corner and checked out his eyes.

“Any differentiation from the left one?”

“Not really. It seems to be slightly blurry though.” The man said, leaving the mirror to put on his clothes.

“That’s expected. The eye was made using the Hunters as a blueprint, so the vision will seem more...feral then you are used to. Your sight will be enhanced, but the edges will stay blurry for some time.”

“Hmm. What about the developments on the O-Virus?”

“R & D wanted you to be there in person to see their findings and give the go ahead, sir.”

“Do they now?” The man, now fully clothed and comfortable walking around after three weeks of healing himself in the chamber, smiled as he pulled a pair of shades from his pocket and headed for the stairs. “Good job, doc.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wesker.” The doctor responded as he watched Albert Wesker walk up the stairs. Even though he did appreciates the doctor’s work, it was something about Wesker that the doctor didn’t trust, and a part of him wished he didn’t heal the wounds or built him that eye.

”Yeah...just another day...”


The Village of Mist was once a peaceful town, isolated from the hustle of the large trading city of Damcyan and the military presence of the Baron Kingdom. The people there were peaceful people who protected their own, and even though they had the ability to summon monsters with great power, they would rather spend their days farming crops and teaching their children the art of summoning than flaunting their skill. The villagers knew no fear, no pain, no violence as they lived, taking every moment to reflect in the joys that the world had to offer.

That all changed one year ago.

A group of bombs suddenly converged upon the Village of Mist, quickly incinerating every house, tree, and crop that was stored there. The summoners were caught completely off guard, and with out a decent defense themselves and their kids fell easily to the destruction. Mist instantly changed from a beautiful, peaceful town to a pathetic excuse for a wasteland in a matter of seconds.

Today, the Village of Mist stands as beautiful and as proud as it once was before, built back from nothing in just a couple of months with the hard work and sweat from the people of Baron. The people lost in the carnage could never be replaced, however, and the smiles and laughter that was once shared on these grounds will forever be lost to the world. Even if new people settle into Mist and bring it life again, there was one woman who would never forgive the screams of her friends being slaughtered.

Rydia, summoner and the sole survivor of the attack of Mist, looked outside her window to make sure that every minute detail was just as she remembered it. The town had been rebuilt as a complete replica of Rydia’s memories, from the houses that once proudly stood tall to the tiny scratches on the trees that children as a record of their height. Right now she was inside her room in her house, trying to recall her memories of her life before the terror and the sadness, the memories that she had when she was a child...

She remembered playing with her friends out in the fields on warm summer days. She remembered the joy that was in her mother’s eyes when she completed her first cure spell. She remembered the ceremony where she was given the title of summoner on her 13th birthday. She remembered the essence of the Mist Dragon disappearing from this world.

She remembered her mother dying at her feet.

Her mother was everything to her. She gave infinite amounts of support whenever Rydia had trouble with spells. She protected Rydia whenever monsters would stumble out of the cave and threaten the village. She always hugged Rydia and gave her all the love she had. Then one day it all ended because of one person’s ambition to conquer and control, and Rydia’s life of peace and contentment took a different path.

Vengeance.

Driven by revenge and separated from those who wanted the fiend destroyed by an accident, Rydia ended up below the earth and in the world of Summoned Monsters. The monsters, who were partners with the people of Mist and quite friendly, took care of her and taught all about magic and summoning. With the goal of vengeance clear in her mind she trained endlessly, and as 10 days passed in the world above and 10 years passed below, she forged herself into a mighty summoner. With her training complete she returned to the real world, and after fighting countless battles and suffering many hardships, her goal was realized and the demon known as Zeromus was finally defeated. Rydia thought that with him gone, the world would return to a land of peace and she could get on with her life.

She was wrong.

After the battle the economy of the world was in shambles, many people were homeless and had to spend most of their time rebuilding, and there was a lot of resentment for the Kingdom of Baron, whose military power was to blame for a small part of the terror that happened. All that, plus the sightings of monsters who survived the war, caused a lot of civil unrest in the world. Even though Cecil and Rosa, the king and queen of Baron and heroes who Rydia helped in the destruction of Zeromus, were harboring the homeless in their castle and doing their best to help the neighboring kingdoms, the load still seems like it was too much to bear. A civil war was brewing, and Rydia couldn’t stand it.

The fighting, the pain, the suffering...she wasn’t sure when it will all end, but she wished it will all of her being. Rydia was just tired of seeing childhood memories being replaced by the ever presence of bloodshed and tears. She was sick of being strong and courageous, and longed to be able to just be herself. A carefree girl who was full of smiles...maybe with him she could be...

“Rydia? Are you okay?” She turned around from the window to see Cecil standing in the doorway.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for all of your help.”

“Thanks aren’t necessary. This is partly my fault anyway.” Cecil said, remembering that it was him and Kain who were duped into delivering the bombs to Mist in the first place. “Will you be there tonight?”

“...Yes. I want to spend some time here first.”

“Understood. I’ll see you then.” Rydia turned back to the window as she heard the sound of the door close behind her.

”Maybe one day, Ryo...”


Continued...


SRK Battle Poll II:10th place - Edge
SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place - Link


One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too good...

quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama

Not to mention the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.

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ShinkuuR Posted: 03-12-2003 , 03:34 PM

New College Grad! Whoo!

Registered: May 2001
Location: Savannah Ga

With a couple button pushes, the two heavy glass panel doors slid aside to reveal several scientists poking and prodding with creatures that can only be described as ‘unnatural’. With all the screams, roars, and gruesome sights that surrounded the area, to any normal person this would be considered hell on earth.

To Albert Wesker, this was home sweet home, and as he stepped through the door, the scientist that weren’t doing anything life threatening(which were very few) approached him and clapped in celebration of his arrival.

“I’ve been told...” Wesker started as he sat down. “...That you guys made some progress.”

“Yes sir!” one of the scientist said, clearly excited from Wesker’s arrival. “Those strands of hair you brought us are amazing! We could basically give our creations any attributes we wanted without any side effects...”

“...if we had a catalyst.” One of the older scientists interrupted. “The truth is that the T and G virus are too weak to stabilize the effects of the O-Virus we created from the hair. The only thing that would work is the T-Veronica, and we have too little of that on hand to use.”

Wesker smiled as he walked up to one of the cells used for storing ‘test data’ and pushed a couple of buttons. As soon as the door opened the body of an 19 year old boy slumped out. He was unconscious and badly wounded, but still alive.

“I beg to differ.”



If you guys don't know anything about the Resident Evil Series, then let me know so you won't be confused.


SRK Battle Poll II:10th place - Edge
SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place - Link


One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too good...

quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama

Not to mention the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.

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S-Chicken Boner Posted: 03-12-2003 , 03:56 PM

Martian Successor

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

Exclamation

Switch, Tenk- I appreciated the good word. Again, as always, I aim to please. (*bows*)


"So that's how you fooled them!" - Aeris Gainsborough, Final Fantasy VII

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Just Some Guy Posted: 03-12-2003 , 10:08 PM

Superhero Sellout

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: a place where you are not

Sorry for the REALLY short part I, but due to time constraints, I have to finish this at a later date.


--------

The Hero That Never Was - Part I
sponsored by Coca-Cola



New York City. It was in the evening, the 'dusk' if you will. All seemed peaceful, calm, the starry night… wasn't here yet. It's that annoying time between day and night actually. Don't you just hate that? I mean, it's not day, but it's not night either. WTF? It's ALMOST nighttime, but then, the days not over yet. But, it is. But then, it's not night time, so the day isn't over. But it's not daytime! What's wrong with this time period!? GAH!

HARK! The silence that is New York City hath been broken. A humble apartment, an obnoxious phone! A cell phone, with the most evil, vile, unholy, disgusting, wrong, wicked, demonic, dastardly, devilish, despicable, deranged, fiendish, cooky, fun, nasty, immoral, detestable, snide, treacherous, deadly, 38|1, sinister, malevolent ring tone of all time. In full-on MP3 audio. The ring of the phone sounded out.

'Dirty Pop'

An extremely manly voice echoed from the other room. 'OH MY GOD! It's, dot dot dot, the PHONE!'

The source of this voice darts out of the bathroom wearing only a red helmet and a towel around his waist. The fact that no one was there didn't stop him from oiling up his muscular body and looking dead sexy. He slowly, dramatically, meticuloulsy picked up the phone, and, in an almost ritualistic fashion, pushed the 'talk' button.

'Hello. Captain Falcon speaking… what? NO! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN!?!?!… Yes, I understand. The Meow Mix endorsement fell through. Yes… Is there any way I can get it back?'

Saddened by this loss of a perfectly good endorsement deal with an extremely popular product, Falcon went to his costume. A purple suit, made entirely of spandex, covered in product logos. After five minutes of searching the once-purple bodysuit, he finally found his Meow Mix patch amongst the other 500+ product endorsments, and sadly ripped it off the suit, throwing it into a drawer.

'I can't let this happen. I'm… I'm… I'm… the great Captain Falcon! The greatest hero there ever was! I must right this wrong and get my product back.'

He donned his spandex bodywear and went back into the dressing room. Taking off his helmet, he quickly grabbed a bottle of Dep hair gel, and took the better of ten minutes perfecting his hair. The then put his helmet back on and darted out the door, searching for crime to stop and, more importantly, endorsement deals to make.

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ETP Posted: 03-12-2003 , 11:51 PM

humble canadian

Registered: Nov 2002
Location: Stratford, Ontario, Canada Favorite Character: GGXX Zappa Astrological Sign: Gemini Area_of_Interest: Illustration & Porn Level of Canadianliness: 98%

Question: Do sidekicks create intros and post in the character description thread aswell, or does it only apply to sponsored characters?

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S-Chicken Boner Posted: 03-13-2003 , 01:02 AM

Martian Successor

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

Exclamation

IIRC sidekicks can post intros too, yes.


"So that's how you fooled them!" - Aeris Gainsborough, Final Fantasy VII

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San_Draco Posted: 03-13-2003 , 11:20 AM

El Bruje Sale

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: The realm between the worlds...

ShinkuuR: *raises hand* I'm confuzzled, and have no idea about anything related to Resident Evil. Explanation, please?


"Your soul is mine!"
-Shang Tsung

It was fun, and I enjoyed myself. But, it's time for me to go now.

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Just Some Guy Posted: 03-13-2003 , 06:29 PM

Superhero Sellout

Registered: Feb 2003
Location: a place where you are not

The Hero That Never Was - Part II
Sponsored by Maxell CD-RData

As Falcon darted throught he city with his 1337 speed in search of sponsors, I mean crime, he came across the dastardly villain known only as 'The Dark One'. The worst of the worst, the most evil of evils, the toughest of the tough, he was what supervillains are all about.

Shouded in skin tight black leather (cause we all know leather is the most evil clothing material there is), red boots and gloves, and a black cape, coming into a hood at the top, which, of course, was over The Dark One's face, only his mouth was visible. A wicked smirk could easily be seen as he dashed at the spandex-clad superhero.

Falcon, being the hero, easily dodged and retailiated with his Falcon Punch. He brought energy into his fist, reared back, and threw his all into that punch, a flame came out of his fists and grew to unreasonable proportions. It took the shape of a falcon in an uber-cool pose as the Captain yelled out the phrase 'FALCON PUNCH!'

The torrential wave of falcon-shaped flames engulfed The Dark One, sending him squalling in pain. His ear-piercing cries of ouchies filled the dimly lit streets of New York. With these horrid screeches attracting attention, a few onlookers came to watch the fight.

As The Dark One was recovering, Falcon struck a pose, leapt into him, and delivered a heavy kick from his excessively shiney gold boots, knocking his burning foe through a wall and into an occupied girls' locker room. He was clearly unconcious now, so Falcon decided to take the time to go off and make an overpretentious speech to the onlookers.

Little did he know that behind him, The Dark One's flaming cloak set off the sprinkler system, successfully wetting all the underwear-clad girls in the locker room as they decided to tend to his wounds. He woke up, but after seeing this sight didn't bother with Falcon much. The Dark One simply removed his cloak revealing his true identity. Bill Clinton then proceeded to make sweet mokey-love to all the girls in the locker room.

Still oblivious, Falcon continued speaking to the onlookers (who, by the way, were more concerned with the peep-show behind them). '...and that, my friends, is how to defeat any force of evil and corruption. This speech was brought to you by George Foreman Grills. Would anyone like an autograph?' He signed some of their things, with and without permission, and then gave a toothy superhero smile, his bright teeth blinding everyone in a five-block radius. Being as there were no news reporters or major corporations present, Falcon quickly exited the scene.

Going off to find more deals, err... evil, he came across two people. One was tall, dressed in dark colors, and seemed to have a deal to make with the other. The second one was of average height, wearing a red and blue number, spandex, with designs of spider webs all over it. He had a red mask with the same pattern and the eyeholes were pure white.

The first figure spoke, overheard by Falcon's superhero level of hearing. 'You are this city's greatest hero. Your skills are unequalled in this world, and your destiny awaits you.'

Falcon was obviously offended by this comment. 'HIM!? The city's greatest hero? What are they smoking?'

The Captain yelled in his manliest voice (which is REALLY FRIGGIN MANLY), 'IN THE NAME OF DELL COMPUTERS, I SAY NAY!' The most overpretentious, self-centered hero the worlds have ever known dived upon the spiderish man, ***zing his ass with no trouble at all. 'That was for Microsoft!' He turned to the black-clad inviter. 'Now, what was it you were saying about him being the greatest hero in this city?'

'WHAT!? You knocked him out from behind! Not even his spider like senses could pick that up! But, it doesn't matter who I invite, so long as I get someone. So, now it's your destiny that awaits YOU.'

'I decline this offer. I have no reason to go with you.'

'It's a fighting tournament, you will feel quite at home there. Hell, what if the news reporters catch you defeating your foes?'

'Yes... you have a very good point. However, I'm still not sure, you know.' Falcon was about as deep in thought as he could get. It was then that his ultimate reassurance and inspiration for this tournament came to him, in the form of a little scrawny guy in a badly tailored business suit. 'And who might you be.'

'Captain Falcon, I am a representative of Coca-Cola corporation. Name's Michael Boxton. I heard that you were being drafted for something, and my company is willing to sponsor you in this event.'

The recruiter then spoke. 'How the HELL would you have heard that he was being drafted? I CAME HERE FOR THE OTHER GUY!'

'Yes, that's who I originally came to offer this sponsorship to, however, it appears he cannot be used now, and Falcon can, and Coca-Cola whores out all the advertising we can.'

The master of his own ego then spoke. 'Yes, I will accept this challenge as well as this sponsorship. Let's be off.'

With those words, a new patch was given to Falcon for his suit (which was already cluttered up beyond rational thought with logos). The recruiter then used his mental capacity to knock Falcon's punk-ass out until the tournament. He walked off, one thought resonated through his mind. 'My GOD, why me? Why do I have to put up with people like this... The things I do...'

He let out a sigh, and vanished into the darkness...

It was then that the other hero woke up.

'What... the... hell? Dell Computers? Damn... this place SUCKS!'

----------------------

And thus ends the most WTF intro you all shall ever read.

Last edited by Just Some Guy on 03-13-2003 at 06:33 PM

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ShinkuuR Posted: 03-13-2003 , 06:33 PM

New College Grad! Whoo!

Registered: May 2001
Location: Savannah Ga

quote:
Originally posted by San_Draco
ShinkuuR: *raises hand* I'm confuzzled, and have no idea about anything related to Resident Evil. Explanation, please?


ShinkuuR:...Explanation? Hmmm...I'm studying for a test at the moment, so I'll let the explanation lady do it.

Iness: Please stop calling me the 'explanation lady'.

ShinkuuR: Alright cutie, get to work.

Iness: Well anyway let's get started.



*KABOOM!! It's time for 'Get to know Resident Evil!!’*

*All the members of SX sit down in a room eating Ramen noodles while Iness speaks.*

Iness: Hello everyone, I'm Iness Fresange, and today we are going to have a short look at the world of Resident Evil. There's a lot to tell so pay attention.

Bowling Pin: Will there be a test??

Iness: Yes.

Bowling Pin:....Shit!

Iness: It all started sometime ago when two men named Ozwell Spencer and Edward Ashford developed a virus called the 'mother virus' . The reasons for them developing the virus is unknown, so you can put your hand down Carly.

CarlyCheeese:....

Iness: The two started a company called Umbrella, which in addition to producing medicines, weapons, and software of all kinds, they secretly dealt in developing illegal bioweapons using the virus by mixing it with all sorts of creatures, mainly amphibous and insects. The company spread out all over the world with their main branch in France and other branches in Antartica, the U.S, and who knows where else. Spencer went to the U.S. branch located in Racoon City, while Ashford worked in his private island, where a lab and a prison were added.

Ashford was killed during a freak accident by his son Alexander, leaving Spencer as the head of Umbrella. He took on a partner, James Marcus, and two promising recruits; Albert Wesker and William Birkin. Marcus developed a virus from the mother virus and leech DNA and called it the 'Progenitor'. He was very protective of the virus to the point where even Spencer couldn't work on it, and Spencer decided to kill him. Yes?

Exeter: Why did Spencer decide to kill him?

Iness: This is just the short version so don't ask hard questions.

Exeter: Sorry.

Iness: Anyway, The two who were assigned the job were Wesker and Birkin, and after they killed Marcus they were worried about being found out, cause Marcus was a higher upper, after all. Around this time the two separated, Wesker deciding to go undercover in the Racoon City police force(to keep an eye on them) and rising up to a leader in the STARS unit(Special Tactics And Rescue Squad) while experimenting with a new virus from France called the T-Virus, while Birkin decided to start work on a new virus called the G-Virus.

Some time later there were reports of people being attack and mauled on the outskirts of Racoon City, and the police sent the STARS Bravo team to investigate. Turns out there was a outbreak of the Progenitor virus and everyone around there were turned into zombies!

All: Oooohhhh....

Iness: Sparing you the details, the resurrected James Marcus was finally put to rest and most of the Bravo team was lost in the melee. The next day the STARS Alpha team, lead by none other than Wesker, went to the sight of the crash and were chased by creatures. They ended up at this mansion and...

Baka: Ms. Fresange, I have a question.

Iness: Go ahead.

Baka: Wasn’t Marcus already dead? And why would Wesker lead the Alpha team when he should know what was going to happen.

Iness: He was, but his experimental leeches found him and gave him life and power. He ended up being killed by a member of the Bravo team. As far as Wesker is concerned, he decided to leave Umbrella during all of the chaos and join a rival company. For bargaining power he wanted to use one of his inventions with the T-Virus, the Tyrant, but first he needed combat data for the beast against worthy opponents. He lured the STARS members to the mansion, hoping that one of them would make it to the Tyrant and get killed. But unfortunately for him, the Tyrant was killed by Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine, two members of the Alpha team, and in the process Wesker was killed by the Tyrant.

All: Hahahaha! Wesker’s a dumb ass!!

Iness: Not really, he faked his own death by using a sample of the G-Virus that Birkin gave him, so when Tyrant ran him through with his claw, Wesker would come back to life with super powers. Some time after that Chris found out that Birkin was doing G-Virus research under the city, and Umbrella stepped in to capture Birkin’s virus cause the T-Virus and Progenitor research was mostly destroyed by the STARS team(because of this Umbrella put a heavy bounty on Chris and Jill). They killed Birkin in the process and the G-Virus was spread to rats, later infecting the entire city. The government decided to bomb the city before it spread more.

*Displays map showing the range of infection*

All: DAYUM!!!

Iness: Right. Chris left to go to Europe to find Umbrella’s head lab, while Jill stayed behind gathering evidence. Around this time Claire Redfield, Chris’ sister, came to town looking for him but only found zombies and a man named Leon Kennedy, who was a new transfer to the department. They ended up fighting their way out of Racoon City while saving Shelley Birkin, William’s daughter. Jill escaped as well, and the four went on their own path; Jill headed to Europe after Chris, Claire went after Chris as well using her own leads, and Leon and Shelley joined a small anti-Umbrella movement.

Lantis: Why didn’t Jill and Claire go and find Chris together?

Iness: Good question. Even though his happened in the same place and almost at the same time, the two groups never saw each other. Bad thing for Claire too, cause in the process she got caught sneaking around by Umbrella and was shipped of to an island prison camp.

Switchblade:...the same place where Alexander Ashford was, right?

Iness: Correct. You’re a smart one.

Switchblade:

Luna: Suck up.

Switchblade: You’re just mad cause I’m smarter than you!! *spits out tounge at Luna*

Sho/Damned: *grabs Switchblade’s tounge* Please continue Iness.

Iness: *sigh* Very well. After escaping from the prison, Claire found a guy named Steve Burnside, and the two worked together to escape the island. On the way they found a guy named Alfred Ashford, who was Alexander’s son and was the prison warden, so to speak.

Ryudo: Why was Alfred just a warden? I would think that being the son of the head there would give him a higher position.

Iness: Good question. After Alexander took control of the facility, his influence in Umbrella came down to null. To restore his dominance he spliced some genes together with the genes from the originator of the Ashford clan, Veronica Ashford, and impregnated some woman with it, giving way to twins; Alfred and Alexia. The two kids were highly intelligent, Alexia more than her brother...she graduated from college when she was 10!

Netz Ausg: Hear that Kellios? This chick graduated when she was 10! You’ll be lucky to graduate when you turn 60!

Kellios: What you say? You better take that back!!

*The two start fighting and the other SX participants cheer them on.*

Iness: I’ll guess we’ll take a short break...


SRK Battle Poll II:10th place - Edge
SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place - Link


One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too good...

quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama

Not to mention the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.

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ShinkuuR Posted: 03-13-2003 , 07:09 PM

New College Grad! Whoo!

Registered: May 2001
Location: Savannah Ga

*Cue commercial break song*


*Both Kellios and Netz Ausg is knocked out. m121akuma is trying his best to hide a hammer behind his back*

m121akuma: Um yeah Iness, you can continue now.

Iness: Well like I was saying, Alexia became the lead researcher at the island while Alfred became her helper. Alexia developed a virus that gives the user almost unlimited power, provided they are suspended in cryosleep for 15 years.

Bowling Pin: Damn...how will they shit or eat? That’s gotta suck.

colguile: She’s frozen, dumbass! People don’t have to shit when their frozen!

Bowling Pin: What do you know? People aren’t supposed to shit when they’re SLEEPING but you do it all the time!

colguile: ..............I’m gonna kick your ass later....

Slipstream: Can you two cut it out? I’m trying to listen to the story!! Please continue.

Iness: *thinks ‘I’m going to kill ShinkuuR for this*. She named the virus the T-Veronica and injected into herself. Alfred put her in cryosleep and kept watch over her. He misses her so much that he started to dress and act like her on occasion!

All: Eeeewwww! That’s nasty!

Iness: Quite. Well anyway, while Claire and Steve were wandering around there they found Wesker, who was after the T-Veronica for a new company. Wesker went about his business, knowing that if Claire was around then Chris would follow, and the pair ended up escaping to Antarctica thanks to Alfred. Chris got wind of Claire’s whereabouts and tracked her to Antarctica, where Alexia was released and ready to unleash all hell.

*shows picture of Alexia*

Bugenhagen: Hey she’s cute!

Luna: She’s evil. It wouldn’t work.

Bugenhagen: I know but...one night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Sho/Damned: No but this will! *slaps Bugenhagen hard* Now shut up! You’re ruining the story!

Iness: Soon after Alexia kidnaped Steve and filled him full of T-Veronica, Chris found Claire at the island, and the two managed to defeat Alexia. In the end Chris fought Wesker once more before escaping, and Wesker walked away with Steve’s body in tow.

San_Draco: Okay...so what does this have to do with the Battle Poll and SX?

Iness: Well, in the Battle Poll Chris, Claire, and Jill ransacked Umbrella’s main base and found a book called the Tome of Souls, which states that the viruses can all be originated from demons that actually existed. Those demons were threatened to be released by two demons named Lantis and Sho...

Lantis and Sho/Damned: No relation.

Iness:...and the Battle Poll events were held to find a way to stop them. Wesker got wind of this and went to the tournament undercover, hoping to recover a purebred demon for research. That quickly ended when Sho found him and beat the ever living sh...crap out of him, tearing out his right eye in the process.

Sho/Damned:

Iness: Wesker did get lucky, however, by stealing some shreds of hair from Sho in the fray, and now he is gonna use that to run more experiments.

S-Chicken Boner: ...For the G Corporation, right? Who are they?

Iness: Well that’s from another game and for another Survivor, ladies and gents. Besides, ShinkuuR’s back from his test.

ShinkuuR: Understand?

All: Yeah, we know everything now!

ShinkuuR: And knowing is half the battle!

All: GI JOE!!!!

Iness:....Idiots.



*Roll Credits*



If you don't know who Iness is, go see Martian Successor Nadesico.


SRK Battle Poll II:10th place - Edge
SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place - Link


One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too good...

quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama

Not to mention the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.

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Exeter Posted: 03-13-2003 , 08:11 PM

Rock You

Registered: Feb 2003
Location:

...that was the most entertaining thing I've ever read. Plus, I understand RE a bit better. Bravo, ShinkuuR.

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Bowling Pin Posted: 03-13-2003 , 08:36 PM

The 24 Edit Team Av

Registered: Feb 2001
Location: Harker Heights, TX, USA

Whoa, that was an awesome crash course! One thing bothers me though...what about my man Tofu?


Jack/Tony/Guile = Edit Team 2003

Sonic Writes Fanfics - Updated? The hell?
The Ansatsuken Kid - Episode 13!
Dan and Skullo - A m121 joint. Rarely updated, but still good.
3rd World Pimp - OGs.

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ShinkuuR Posted: 03-13-2003 , 08:42 PM

New College Grad! Whoo!

Registered: May 2001
Location: Savannah Ga

quote:
Originally posted by Exeter
...that was the most entertaining thing I've ever read. Plus, I understand RE a bit better. Bravo, ShinkuuR.


No prob. I aim to please!

quote:
Originally posted by Bowling Pin
Whoa, that was an awesome crash course! One thing bothers me though...what about my man Tofu?



...Iness said that he was looking for some bean curd and got caught in the Racoon City bombing. Oops.


SRK Battle Poll II:10th place - Edge
SRK Battle Poll II: 5th place - Link


One of the reasons why the '24' threads are too good...

quote:
Originally posted by Azrael-sama

Not to mention the Triple P's New Ho is going to get herself into all sorts of shit. We didn't need to see Spinless Weasel Guy stuffing a gun into his bag to know that's a trap. You have to hand it to Shin Sherri, not only would she have recognized this blatantly obvious set-up, she would have RC'ed it into about 7 different traps of her own. By the time she was done with that guy, he'd be on welfare and PREGNANT with HER kids.

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