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Post by ch00beh on Sept 5, 2010 8:29:30 GMT -5
Of course thsi would go live when I can't do any digital illustrations >:{ A young man sits on a fairly comfortable looking rolling chair. He leans back, the chair following his movements. A look of annoyance. He definitely did not loosen that lever. The young man's hand reaches below and fiddles with the dozens of levers and switches and knobs to reconfigure his chair, then leans back to test how ergonomical everything felt. Nice. In front of the young man is an array of screens. Two big boys have wires trailing down behind the large desk, atop which sits a laptop, a tablet, and a ridiculous amount of papers. Three sets of aviators also lie strewn about the table, with a fourth pair resting comfortably on the young man's face. On one of the two big screens, some kind of game is playing that involves guns and possibly magic. It's hard to tell. The other screen seems to have the latest edition of PictureDo, and some kind of artistic endeavor is going absolutely no where on it, partly because of the game being played, and partly because this guy has self esteem issues and quits doing art when it stalls for more than 5 minutes. Also, while doing all of this, the young man is reading the latest posts on this form he frequents called Exophthalmic Archimandrites. What a weirdo. Suddenly e-mail! What a great and important day. The young man can finally begin his pre-download of that pre-purchased game that everyone is going on about. Just need to enter a name and password... and, – cock – it seems like he forgot what his name was. Too much time on the internet masquerading as that waterloggedComputron guy. So. Name. What was it?
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 6, 2010 10:31:29 GMT -5
wC: waterloggedComputron IS your name! You had it legally changed weeks ago! Oh of course! His name is w-a-t-e-r-l— NO. This is the last time the young man almost types his chumhandle rather than his real name! wC: Yiannis Duncan wC: Silly Goose wC: Youngho Xu Dude, are these even names? The young man attempts to equip each name to his strife specibus. Each one shows up in the negatives of the awesome-meter and the words flash in the air. That wasn't even a question! WC: Clammy Slouch Dion Lozier Getting closer... wC: Tweak moustache. wC: Vince Soleil wC: Theo Abiog wC: Ivan Bolongan wC: Sean Sibug wC: Oliver Magbojos wC: Manoto Buhain wC: Jean Buaya Aaaaaand one step forward, twenty three and a half back... Hold up. What's this? WC: Captchalogue all your other pairs of aviators. All of them. YEAHHHHHHHHHHThe young man's name is TWEAK MOUSTACHE, and his chumhandle is waterloggedComputron.
What a great chumhandle. This guy was just trying to be pretty STRAIGHTFORWARD with it, so he was like 'yo, I kinda like to swim and I kinda like computers, so what can I fucking waterloggedComputron.' And it turned out GREAT, like basically every thing else he does WITHOUT INTENDING it to.
See, Tweak over here really DOESN'T LIKE THINKING things through. He's not impulsive; in fact, he's pretty lazy and doesn't do much, which is probably why he HATES PLANNING. But when he does do something, everything goes great. It's less about impulse than having an instinctive inclination towards AWESOME THINGS.
Take the chumhandle for example.wC: Muse over the fact that French slang for toilet is W.C. Total faux-impulsive maneuver in picking those two words. But then it turned out to be a SELF DEPRECATING JOKE, because he ended up making his initials the same as WATER CLOSET which means TOILET in basically every language, and that's great because it's funny in some twisted self hating kind of way. Just another complete accident that further cements Tweak's idea that the UNIVERSE WORKS ITSELF OUT all the time.
This philosophy is probably why Tweak is so lazy. Being able to do the most amazing ASS PULLS does that to you.
Somehow, exerting less effort than everyone else while getting better results gives Tweak a smug sense of SUPERIORITY when he knows he shouldn't. It just ends up with him feeling TERRIBLE and WONDERFUL at the same time
More on that instinct for greatness, this guy's strife specibus is AWESOMEKIND. Only things that hit a certain threshold of AWESOMENESS can be wielded as weapons. He considered changing his fetch modus to AWESOME QUEUE but then that would just get redundant, and things that follow a PATTERN ARE BAD.
Don't even get him started on mainstream music.The young man dances. He has a feeling everything he's about to do was a colossal waste of time. wC: Punch something in a fit of rage. Now why would he do that? Everything is great. Now that the game is downloading, thanks to the input of his name, he'll be able to— aw masturbating sock monkey did the download server crash? Tweak gets ready to punch something in a fit of rage. Wait. Universe. Oh right, he won that one writing contest and was getting a copy of the game that night anyway. Like basically everything else Tweak writes,the story was a stream of conscious that turned out to be pure bronze. Not pure gold. The beauty of aiming for okayness rather than greatness is that the universe works out more often. Anyway, bronze quality was good enough to get him the "Most Potential" award. Even though everyone knows that "Most Potential" just means "Participation Ribbon," Tweak still got a copy of that hot new game out of it. At the time, he thought nothing of it, since you know, shitty award for a story that should have gotten more attention, plus he had it pre-ordered anyway, but hey, it all worked out in the end. gg universe.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 6, 2010 11:59:32 GMT -5
wC: Check your computer for messages. Tweak takes a moment to look over his array of monitors and makes an excuse to examine them in more detail. The left most monitor is pretty gigantic. On it is a blank canvas in PictureDo. Despite the blankness, the history montage for that particular file is a spinning slide show of actions. Tweak's stylus and tablet are out on his desk, lying on top of various papers that probably don't apply to anything current anymore but were just never cleaned up. I think we already covered his laziness and his wonky-ass semi-self-esteem issues as reasons for a blank canvas, so let's just move on. On the right is another gigantic screen, which looks more like a converted television than a monitor. In fact, that's a perfectly inaccurate simile because it's not a simile at all and is actually truth. Converted TV. So great. Hooked up to a badass computer that Tweak built himself over the years. The case itself is pretty terrible looking since Tweak is really really cheap, but inside, everything is super sweet. The thing is rendering a next-gen game at maximum settings on the big TV. Finally, Tweak's eyes settle on the laptop, which is the only possible computer that can get messages. His hands, on the other hand, continue giving directions to his in game avatar, which he watches from the corner of his eyes. No new messages. What a waste of time. If only pesterchum was working. Suddenly, Tweak starts feeling a bit parched. How inconvenient! The game was just getting good, too, but personal health and hygiene are somewhat more important than fake people putzing around in virtual space. Slightly. The young man feels a need for something with some pizazz and kick... like an energy drink! But... those are all the way in the refrigerator which is in the kitchen which is totally outside the room. Warm beverages are the worst.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 6, 2010 12:29:22 GMT -5
Tweak: Pause and get out of there. It is time to snap into some rude elixir. Tweak hits the pause button and stands up. It's time to get out of here and snap into some rude elixir. The young man makes his way to the door, which was already open since he maintains an open-door policy just in case the universe wants to send him anything, and steps out into the hallway. By his feet, he notices the shark, who has yet to be named, swimming back and forth in the lap pool. (Which runs parallel to the hallway. Duh.) Dude that guy practices all the time, but he's still never beaten Tweak in their morning race. Thankfully. As Tweak makes his way down the hallway, the mess from the last party slowly gets more apparent. Super legit party, but no one bothered cleaning up. It'll probably get sorted out, even though Tweak is the only person living in the house. (Aside from the shark) Here we go. Finally, the kitchen. Stupid 25 meter lap pool making the hallway excessively long. Tweak takes hold of the refrigerator handle and gives it a firm tug, overcoming that weak magnet with his massive strength. Cool light pours from behind the door, which opens to reveal that the fridge has nothing but energy drinks, beer, eggs, and milk in it. All the actual food is frozen, yet despite this, Tweak manages to pull a gourmet meal out of no where every night based on frozen meats (like chicken nuggets), olive oil, garlic, onions, ginger, soy sauce, potatoes, rice, a microwave, onions, some pans, an oven, dull knives, sharp knives, milk, garlic, beer, tomato sauce, rock salt, eggs, tortillas, dried pasta, bread, garlic, wooden spoons, ice cream, onions, and olive oil. There's probably even more things to cook with hidden around the kitchen, but Tweak prefers to not actually keep track of these things and just see what he can end up making every night. It's more fun that way. Oh look at that, he got lost in thought. Someone should probably help him decide what to drink.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 6, 2010 13:41:49 GMT -5
Faygo... what a great name for a shark! Tweak closes the refrigerator door and heads back to the lap pool. As the shark gets closer, he yells, "Your name is now Faygo!" Faygo doesn't seem to care one way or another. He just starts another lap. Oh well. Back to figuring out a drink. Or better yet, why not take all three and then get back to that sweet game? Tweak heads back to the refrigerator and opens it and takes stock of the refreshments. Alright, let's see if he can still work his hashbag modus to grab these mamma jammas. Take ONE BEER (15 + 14 + 5 + 0 + 2 + 5 + 5 + 18 = 64 % 10 = 4; RNG(0,0)=0), GLASS OF MILK (7 + 12 + 1 + 19 + 19 + 0 + 15 + 6 + 0 + 13 + 9 + 12 + 11 = 124 % 10 = 4; RNG(0,1)=0), and A CAN OF ENERGY (1 + 0 + 3 + 1 + 14 + 0 + 15 + 6 + 0 + 5 + 14 + 5 + 18 + 7 + 25 = 114 % 10=4; RNG(0,2)=1) . They all go neatly into bag three of Tweak's fetch modus. Need to keep them cool, though! Tweak closes the refrigerator door and opens up the freezer door. Grab some ICE CUBES (9 + 3 + 5 + 0 + 3 + 21 + 2 + 5 + 19 = 67 % 10 = 7; RNG(0,0)=0). Dammit! Retrieve from bag 7. (RNG(0,1) = 0) ICE CUBES retrieved. Try storing FROZEN WATER (6 + 18 + 15 + 26 + 5 + 14 + 0 + 23 + 1 + 20 + 5 + 18 = 151 % 10 = 1; RNG(0,0)=0). Finger blasted cunt jugglers! Retrieve from bag 1. (RNG(0,1) = 0) FROZEN WATER retreived. Let's try FRIGID THINGIES (6 + 18 + 9 + 7 + 9 + 4 + 0 + 20 + 8 + 9 + 14 + 7 + 9 + 5 + 19 = 144 % 10 = 4; RNG(0,3)=0) Nice! Tweak then notices that one of the frozen steaks is missing from the freezer and not any of the ice cubes. CLOSE ENOUGH. Looks like this thawing piece of meat will end up as dinner. The universe works in mysterious ways. /********** Fetch Modus: HASH BAG [0] -> [1] -> [2] -> [3] -> [4] ->[FRIGID THINGIES, GLASS OF MILK, ONE BEER, A CAN OF ENERGY] [5] ->[AVIATORS, AVIATORS, AVIATORS] [6] -> [7] -> [8] -> [9] -> **********/ Tweak can't help but feel that this is reminiscent of someone else's adventure.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 6, 2010 15:15:08 GMT -5
WC: I warned you bro. I warned you about the hashbag. It's such a great modus shut up. Nah. Universe doesn't have feelings. Best thing to do is just tell it "good game." Oh well, back to the lair. Tweak heads back into the long-ass hallway and walks back to the lair. Yup. Faygo is still doing laps. After a bit of walking, he enters his room and pops a squat back on his chair. Maybe it's time to crack open a tasty beverage. Or wait, wasn't there something else important that needed doing? Tweak was about to beat himself up over having to go down that hallway again when he remembered that it was much too early for the mail to even get here. And even if it wasn't too early, he could pretend it was until he finished this level, because that was another way to make the universe work itself out. Tweak unpaused the game.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 7, 2010 9:18:24 GMT -5
Tweak: Go ahead and stab that dragon with your gun. It'll be great. Tweak receives the command and relays it to the avatar inside his computer. A flourish of keyboard snaps and mouse clicks occurs, and with the final click, the surly commando in medieval power armor takes his gatling gun and stabs a dragon with it while shooting. What looks like dragon blood (you know it's dragon blood because it's on fire) sprays out of the gigantic hole that the gatling gun carves into the beast's flesh. So great. Tweak would love to! But as of currently his pesterchum account is broken. He'll probably have to stick with VisageDirectory messaging and private messages over those various forums for communication. Too lazy to go to bed. Yeah. That just happened. Tweak: Actually captchalogue all your other pairs of aviators (all of them), the way you said you were going to before but didn't. But... /********** Fetch Modus: HASH BAG [0] -> [1] -> [2] -> [3] -> [4] ->[FRIGID THINGIES, GLASS OF MILK, ONE BEER, A CAN OF ENERGY] [5] ->[AVIATORS, AVIATORS, AVIATORS] [6] -> [7] -> [8] -> [9] ->**********/ They're already captchalogued and they have been this entire time! Tweak is confused. But hey, wait a minute, the fetch modus seems to be off. It's currently set to the LINKED LIST mode when it should be in the ARRAY mode, and that's just a loss of efficiency! Tweak really likes things when they are simple and efficient. For example, with the current LINKED LIST setup, getting or setting an item would have an average runtime of O(n), which is totally not okay when hash maps are supposed to be O(1) to begin with. The linked list mode just creates flexibility with collisions, and that's kind of ok, but losses of efficiency are kind of wak even if things get slightly more convenient from the user side.
So by switching to the ARRAY mode, each bucket in the hash map would get an array of size 5 into which items are set. Retrieval is still random to ensure an O(1) retrieval, and setting is also O(1) because arrays use a single reference look up and then a mathematical addition.
It's really so simple, Tweak is kind of unsure why you still don't get it.
Ok, fine, to put it in even simpler terms:
With the LINKED LIST mode, you get the hash table, jump to the hashed reference pointer, then traverse the referenced linked list (which is just references pointing at each other) until the RANDOM NUMBER GENERATOR says to stop.
With the ARRAY mode, you get the hash table, jump to the hashed reference pointer, and set the last null entry of the array as the inputted item. Retrieval starts off similarly, but once the array is referenced, get a random number from 0 to array.length and return the item with the reference code calculated by the array reference plus the random number.
So simple. Anyway, Tweak tries to switch the fetch modus back to ARRAY mode, but gets an error saying that he has items within. Shoot. Well, it's probably time to drink something anyway. Retrieve from bag 4. (RNG=1) The GLASS OF MILK appears in Tweak's hand. He gulps it down. So tasty. What should he do with the rest of his inventory before switching to ARRAY? - RETRIEVE(bag#)
- EJECT(bag#)
- PUT(item) //experimented with that SYNONYMS LIBRARY so this one can also be invoked by other words similar to PUT or TAKE
- CLEAR()
/********** Fetch Modus: HASH BAG [0] -> [1] -> [2] -> [3] -> [4] ->[FRIGID THINGIES, ONE BEER, A CAN OF ENERGY] [5] ->[AVIATORS, AVIATORS, AVIATORS] [6] -> [7] -> [8] -> [9] ->
strifeSpecibus: awesomeKind (fists)**********/
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 8, 2010 9:31:18 GMT -5
Tweak: Retrieve energy drink. RETRIEVE from BAG 3 (RNG=1) FRIGID THINGIES, now no longer frigid but rather somewhat moist, appears on Tweak's desk. The melting ice dampens an unlucky piece of paper. Crap donkeys! RETRIEVE from BAG 3 (RNG=0) ONE BEER drops on top of the steak. Great landing! But still not what Tweak wants. Thunder farting dick zippers! Ok. There's only one item left in bag 3. Really, nothing can go wrong now. RETRIEVE from BAG 3 (RNG=0) ' A CAN OF ENERGY comes out of the captchalogue and falls on top of the beer. The beer can, not as soft as a partially thawed steak, gives the energy drink a not so soft landing. Due to the impact, both beverages, having been shaken up with all that captchaloguing and walking, explode. ARGLBARGLARGLBARGLARGLBARGLARGLBARGLARGLBARGLE Steak juices, beer juices, and energy drink (juices) spill all over the desk. Oh nooooo Tweak makes a mad dash to get the laptop out of the way and places it on the floor, away from the stream of fluids dripping off the desk. He then takes the keyboard and mouse (both wireless) and unceremoniously throws them onto his perfectly kept bed. The tablet is a little harder to move since it has a wire, but there's a small corner of the desk that isn't hit by the flavor explosion, so the young man just moves it there. Tweak considers despairing for a bit, but then realizes all the miscellaneous papers on his desk have been soaking up the majority of the mess. Nice. The young man starts mopping everything up with those probably outdated papers, and within a few minutes, the desk is dry again (though stickier than before). Tweak takes the popped beer can, broken energy drink, and wet papers and puts them in the trash. The steak he leaves on a dry sheet of paper. Crisis averted. Gg universe.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 11, 2010 18:14:16 GMT -5
Tweak: Show off a talent of yours you haven't flaunted yet. Things just went here. (lolol "talent") I. What. Ok. Tweak tries to captchalogue the floor, but seeing as it is a fixed installation, he can't. Besides, he's trying to EMPTY his captchalogue so that he can switch it to the more efficient ARRAY modus! Geez. Might as well do that right here and now. Tweak points at his pillow. EJECT BAG 5. Tweak's 3 extra pairs of aviators fly like the pilots whose faces they could be covering right into the pillow. They land with a neat thud and clatter. After making sure his glasses are mostly ok, Tweak switches to the ARRAY modus. Each bucket is filled with a 5-card array. Hey wait a minute. Wasn't there something among all those other ones that will take care of themselves like bills and homework and whatever... Tweak: Read that dry piece of paper you slapped that steak down on. I bet it is actually a letter from a friend or something. Tweak looks at the piece of paper that the steak is on. D: It's a card from one of Tweak's real life friends that he got for his birthday a super long time ago. The lateness was actually supposed to be ironic or something because Tweak's friend already made him a cake and delivered it perfectly on time. And now it's ruined. Now that all this mess is cleaned up, and to take his mind off the ruined card, it's time to get back to the game. And what a time to get back! Tweak mentally prepares himself as he moves his peripherals back to his desk. He's about to lay a smack down on the Big Bad Evil Guy. The virtual doors open, their grand stony visages revealing a room whose every wall shows a television screen. A single man in an overly long black cape stands in the center of the room. The surly commando in medieval power armor pulls a dynamic entry in the cutscene by flying in on his rocket boots to kick the big bad in the face. Man you wish you could pull that off in the actual game! Cutscenes are so lame sometimes. The big bad seems pretty nonplussed after the flaming kick, though. Looks like battle time is starting! Tweak starts tapping a bunch of keys while his mouse hand zips every which way. On screen, the surly commando is flying around while peppering the big bad with his gatling gun. Suddenly the avatar gets hit by a rocket propelled alligator and gets sent sailing across the zigurat's upper sanctuary. In an effort to realign his sites, Tweak pushes his mouse hard to the right. And knocks one of the wires leading from his TV/monitor/thing, and said wire happens to be the plug. The TV/monitor/thing goes blank. Tweak panics for a moment before scrambling to plug the viewing device back in. When the picture finally come back up, he finds that his surly commando has been turned into a red smear of interior decorating in the room. Poop. Maybe it's time to take a break from video games. Tweak heads back out into the hallway. Faygo is about to finish his lap coming this way. Aaaaaand GOTCHA The AWESOMEKIND awesomemeter starts measuring Faygo to see if it is worth using as a weapon. The following traits pop up: Improbable weapon: +40 points Unwieldy: +4 points Saw it on TV tropes: -20 points Named: +25 points (+5 damage) Foreshadowed: +10 points (+22 damage) Total: 59 points. Equipable. This is probably the best idea Tweak's had all day. Just to test out the massive damage boosts, Tweak decides to blast that beer can. He goes back inside his room and grabs the popped beer can from the trash. Looking around the room, Tweak can't find a window. Oh well. Looks like he'll have to settle on knocking the offending can off his sweet-ass balcony. The young man steps outside, shark slung nonchalantly over his shoulder, beer can in his other hand. His life is average. Tweak surveys the not quite suburban and not quite rural surroundings. There are just trees straight ahead, but there are houses to the left and right. Tweak: Balance something precariously on something else. It'll hold. Tweak takes the can and puts it on the balcony's ledge. A stick that fell from a nearby tree lies on the ground, and Tweak picks it up and places it vertically on the ledge. He then attempts to balance the can on it as a makeshift tee. It holds. The young man gives one last look to get his bearings straight, plants his feet firmly, then uses Faygo to give the can a solid smack. It goes flying into the forests. The woodland creatures will take care of it from here. Tweak: Have sudden, inexplicable cravings for baked Brie. All this shark swinging sure works up an appetite! Cheese sounds pretty good. Like brie. What an outstanding thought. For that matter, Tweak might as well make lunch/dinner/whatever-meal-appropriate-for-the-unspecified-time-of-day. Best to start preparing. Tweak heads to his desk and gives the dripping steak a good look. He then proceeds to use Faygo to club the piece of meat into softness. Okay enough of this. TAKE STEAK (19 + 20 + 5 + 1 + 11= 56 % 10 = 6) Tweak heads back to the hallway. Before going far, he puts Faygo back in the pool. The shark begins its laps again. What a trooper. Then he stops. It looks like some of the steak juices stuck to Faygo's skin, washed off into the pool, and then entered his nose. Now he's about to jump out of the water and attack Tweak for that steak! Tweak attempts to equip the steak to his strife specibus. Makes no fucking sense: +30 points Is actually not a weapon nor is it usable as one: -5 damage Embarassing when hit with: +50 points Total: 80 points. Do it. Faygo jumps out of the water. While airborne, the shark opens its mouth wide, but instead of catching the steak or Tweak in its teeth, it catches a STEAK SLAP right to the gills. The shark lands back in the water with a splash, dazed. Seriously. Enough of this tenderizing nonsense. Tweak skips to the kitchen. Tweak: Decide to batter the steak and declare it beer-battered. Mull over selling this to tourists as a delicacy. Great idea. Gg universe. Tweak grabs a bowl from one of the cupboards, RETRIEVES STEAK, and puts the meat in the container. He then goes to the pantry and gets some flour. What is this large bottle of beer doing in the pantry? Oh well, can't let warm beer go to waste. He pops the bottle open and pours a little on the steak as a marinade, then pours a little more in a separate bowl. He follows that up by mixing in flour in the beer bowl. A pepper grinder and rock salt are conveniently strewn about from the last time Tweak cooked. He seasons the steak in both, then does a light sprinkle of flour to start drying everything out. Deep fry or saute? Might as well go all the way and deep fry. The young man finds a deep pot then pours a healthy amount of corn oil in. He puts it on the gas stove and begins the heating process. This sure is taking a while. ======> What a great meal. It turned out deliciously, as usual. As Tweak starts his dishes, he hears a squeaky hinge being pushed up, a clacking sound, and then a soft thwap, in that order. That sounds exactly like the mail. Maybe that HOT NEW GAME is finally here! The young man puts the dishes in the sink then makes a mad dash to the door. He looks down and simply sees a pile of papers. Probably bills that will eventually take care of themselves. But nothing that looks remotely like a CD. No wait, there's one! Tweak: Never, ever refer to your pestering contacts as "chums". Always refer to them as collective "chum", in the sense of "shark bait". Nope. Not that hot new game. It is, however, a new version of that Pesterchum software. Maybe you can finally talk to your chum again. Anyway, back to the search. Maybe the game is in a package outside? Tweak opens the door. He is greeted by a box that is much too big to be that hot new game. This is terrible. Did the postal service mess everything up? Or maybe it's coming with one of those independent courier services that run only according to the speed of plot? Knowing the universe, it's probably the latter. It'll come when it comes. Gg. So right, there's a package. Was Tweak expecting something else? Hmm.... he takes it inside, shuts the door, and uses his pocket knife to slice open the tape. Beyond the packaging styrofoam pieces a black trenchcoat. Oh! It's a BLACK TRENCHCOAT OF NOIR. Tweak actually was expecting this, but totally forgot that it was coming the same day as the game. What a serendipitous turn of events. He puts it on and Damn. I could use a cigarette.TM looked around the dimly lit foyer while fishing for something in his pockets. From the coat pockets, he produced a pack of Hardboiled cigarettes and a lighter. As he put the cigarette in his mouth, his eyes settled on the stack of bills. Leave 'em where they lie. He lit the cigarette. There are more important things to do.The young man took a long breath, letting the hot chemicals caress his throat and lungs, before slowly exhaling. The smoke curled and shifted from his mouth and hung hazily in the air. That was good.The young man turned to the hallway and began the long walk down. I guess I should explain myself a bit. That stuff really bugs me. They drop ya right in the middle the action and then your stuck having to go through endless inner monologues to figure everythin out.
Anyway, ya see, I'm wearing the BLACK TRENCHCOAT OF NOIR. It's a new piece for my NARRATIVE FASHION collection. I got more things in my room. C'mon, we're just about there.The young man enters his room and makes his way to his (unillustrated) closet. It's a big closet. Lots of things. There ain't too many narrative fashions left for me to get. You want a sample?The young man took the first thing he saw off a shelf. It was a red scarf. He ran his hands along the soft, worn cloth. It's presence alone seemed to create warmth. Red scarf of romance. One of the first ones I got.He folded the garment and put it back on the shelf. He stepped forward and picked up a leather jacket. Dystopian future.A bowler caught his eye. Slapstick.He took another deep breath of the cigarette, noticing the build up of ash. That's a timer. Means we should probably get out of this place. You can probably guess what else I've got around here.The young man turned and went back into the main room, tapping his cigarette over the trash can as he exited. OH BOY getting used to doing art and the medium and making excuses for shitty pictures SURE IS FUN
So is SHOEHORNING SILLY THINGS into an OVERLY LONG post
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 13, 2010 13:24:19 GMT -5
-- waterloggedComputron [WC] began pestering wartimeStrategist [WS] --
WC: fuck yeah WC: i got a new pesterchum that works now WC: oh. i guess you are afk. WC: what a lame first conversation.
-- waterloggedComputron [WC] ceased pestering wartimeStrategist [WS] --
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 13, 2010 15:06:24 GMT -5
-- wartimeStrategist [WS] began pestering waterloggedComputron [WC] --
WS: Hey. WS: Sorry about that. WS: Lunch and shit keeps me away from my computer. WC: oh yo what up WS: Not much. WC: tite WS: You? WC: not much here either WS: You're always so relaxed, y'know? WC: well, i did pummel a piece of meat using my shark, but no big deal or anything WS: Is that what they're calling it today? WC: the sandpaper skin really helps make the steak better at absorbing marinade and shit WS: "Pummeling a piece of meat?" WC: with a shark WS: Right. WS: My bad there. WS: So. WC: word WS: Anything interesting happen yet today? WS: Wait. WS: I'm sorry. WS: Anything "Awesome" happen yet today? WC: my black trenchcoat of noir came in WC: it's pretty dope WC: pretty hardboiled, even WS: Wait. WS: You bought a black trenchcoat? WC: yeah. for my narrative fashion collection WS: You know, every time I talk to you I continue to think you look more and more like this guy. WS: i55.tinypic.com/w1wbvp.jpg WC: woah WC: it's funny, cuz every time i talk to you, i think you look more like this guy WC: i51.tinypic.com/2v93ri8.jpg WS: Woah. WS: I mean, minus the black panther thing and we've pretty much got me exactly. WC: yeah WS: Just kidding. I wish though. WC: yeah WS: I mean save the gaping wound on his abdomen. WC: i guess i can loan you my shonen kimono sometime WS: Haha. How on earth would you even get that to me? WC: man i don't know WC: sometimes i wish i could just copy and paste irl items through some crazy machinations WC: but you know whatever WC: it is what it is WS: Yeah. WS: Maybe even some machine that could layer the items on top of each other or remove them to make new ones. WC: crazy WC: you might be on to something WS: I guess so. WC: i've got that feeling that it will lead to something awesome, so i recommend you keep that idea on you WS: I'll see about keeping it afloat. WS: If ever something comes out of it, you'll be the first person I alert, trust me. WC: sick WC: anyway, i'm off. the universe beckons WS: Right. WS: I've gotta go train my power of heart or something. WS: See you later.
-- waterloggedComputron [WC] ceased pestering wartimeStrategist [WS] --
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 14, 2010 11:16:00 GMT -5
> Tweak: the universe beckonsYeah. Got that feeling again that something big is about to happen. It's almost like someone sees the big picture and gives me some hints. Frankly, the idea gives me the creeps just thinkin about it, so let's chalk it up to intuition.Tweak: Captchalogue pocket knife. Obviously you can't use it otherwise. Come on. You gotta break the rules occasionally, kid, 'specially in a world like this. You can't just go gallivanting down a back alley and expect the law to keep you alive when someone starts a strife with you. The world doesn't work that way, and you shouldn't keep thinking it does.
But alright, yeah, I see your point. We walk a fine line, us sleuthin types, and it's best to stay on the right side as often as possible. Consider it captchalogued.Tweak: You're in the mood for... sleuthin'. Now I gotta ask myself: why the hell did I even get up? There's a mystery here, I just don't know what it is yet./********** [0] -> [ , , , , ] [1] -> [ , , , , ] [2] -> [ , , , , ] [3] -> [ , , , , ] [4] -> [ , , , , ] [5] -> [POCKET KNIFE, , , , ] [6] -> [ , , , , ] [7] -> [ , , , , ] [8] -> [ , , , , ] [9] -> [ , , , , ] strifeSpecibus: awesomeKind (fists) **********/
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 27, 2010 16:19:45 GMT -5
It's awfully dark in here... and a bit stuffy... maybe I should take off my coat&mdash
The mystery was that Tweak had turned the lights off when he walked into his room and was smoking without a window open. Tweak quickly rectifies both of these issue.
Anyway, back to the internet. The young man checks his various forums, and on one, he notices a new post in a topic he bookmarked.
Oh nice. That idiot forteHolder posted a new chapter in his story. This oughta be good.
Oh hey, he's online, too. Might as well bother him.
-- waterloggedComputron [WC] began pestering forteHolder [FH] --
WC: so uh WC: i see you've posted a new chapter of your fic FH: What? FH: Oh. Oh yeah. FH: Yeah it’s pretty much the best and I am totally the best, &c. WC: i guess? WC: i'm still trying to work my way through it WC: and wtf does &c even mean WC: jegus WC: you and your "word play" FH: Whatever! Forget it. FH: I’m fishing for sympathy, but I forgot you live with a fucking shark. WC: man you leave Faygo out of this WC: what did he ever do to you FH: /ʊɢx/ FH: That’s not what I meant. FH: It’s just… FH: Augh whatever! WC: what is it even WITH you with all your AUGHS and WHATEVERS today FH: I don’t know, I just got pestered by some rando commando who was eating billy goats or something. FH: He was trying to piss me off I think. And he was pretty bad at it! Except that he threw in this comment about my parents that kinda bummed me out. FH: ‘Cuz I haven’t heard from them in years &c &c. FH: But there’s no use crying to you about it because for all I know your parents are gone too because apparently you just live with a shark! FH: So there we go! Now we’re all on the same page. All of us. WC: there you go with your &c &c again i swear you are harder to read than a window spray painted with burned grease WC: but uh, i guess that's pretty wak about eating billy goats and stuff WC: did you block the poop head FH: Oh please, blocking people is for the weak! FH: What do you take me for, some kind of blubbering limp-limbed pansy?? WC: i, uh WC: actually ya WC: that's exactly what i take you for FH: Okay, you’re not supposed to agree with me when I ask something like that. FH: It’s too easy. FH: I’m pitching that right to you, you’re supposed to have the class not to swing for it like it’s swing dancing night at the swinger’s club! WC: i'll swing at it like fuckin barry bonds on steroids WC: just cuz the pitcher screws up and gives me a straight pitch doesn't mean i'm not hitting it WC: it's how the universe works, man WC: gotta drop kick those opportunities in the face when they come at you FH: I haven’t screwed up one bit! FH: You’re the one who’s messing up this clever extended swing-themed analogy with some weird drop kick image. FH: Thanks douchebag, there goes the poetry! WC: man we have moved past the realm of poetry and into the realm of just straight up smacking things in the olfactory enclosure WC: just flow with it dood FH: Ah yes, the land of sharks and violence. FH: Count me out! Some of us are a little more sophisticated than you and your mug-bludgeoning ways, Tweak. WC: you keep bringing up Faygo WC: is that what it is WC: do you just hate sharks or something FH: Yes. No. Maybe! I don’t know. FH: Wow we’ve veered off subject. What the hell were we even talking about? FH: Oh yeah, what’s his face the troll. FH: Unless we were actually talking about our parental situations. FH: Unless we were actually talking about my amazing writing. WC: and there you go trying to steer the universe to your liking WC: it does not work like that WC: but i guess now that we're here. WC: trolls are dumb, i don't want to talk about my parents, and i don't care about your writing. WC: so i guess that means we're talking about that troll guy FH: /o mæn/, look at all this getting put in my place that just happened to me! FH: If you didn’t care about my writing why did you even bother me about it in the first place, huh? WC: i was just noticing it WC: it's not like i read it or anything FH: Oh please, I wouldn’t expect you to go to all the trouble of READING things. You might have to take off the shades for that! FH: Hey! Have you and Bustin and Kurt ever thought about pooling your sunglasses collections and just rotating them weekly?? FH: It’d save a lot of money AND you three would get even closer to your dream of all being the exact same person! WC: wat WC: we're not even close to the same WC: i have a shark WC: plus my shades are better than theirs combined. FH: Oh my god whatever. FH: Here, let me spell that out for you. FH: /w/ FH: /ʌ/ FH: /t/ FH: /e/ FH: /v/ FH: /r/ FH: There, now my apathy is set in stone forever. WC: it won't be set in stone forever cuz it's on your computer WC: i hope your hard drive gets hit by a meteor or trashed by some imps or something equally ridiculous FH: What the hell? Imps don’t exist. FH: They’re nothing but made-up make-believe fakey fake fakes. FH: Stop pretending stuff and get real, Twerp Moustache!! WC: oooh that burned WC: i think i can smell myself i am so burned WC: that was a good one WC: how long have you been saving that one for, mr suckstenato? FH: Are you kidding me? A great word like “Sostenuto” and that was the best you could do with it? FH: Even “Weaksaucetenuto” would have been better than that!! FH: Face it, Twerp. You will never be as good at wordplay as me. Or at writing. Or at being the audience favorite. FH: OR AT SBURB FH: &C. &C. &C.!!!! WC: twerp is such a wak insult, tho WC: every time you call me that i just think of that incompetent crazy woman in pokemon WC: but i guess that kinda fits your incompetence, f'llate suckstenato FH: God, “F’llate”? How contrived can you get? FH: Screw this, I’m totally done with you. FH: Enjoy your shark! WC: fine whatever
-- waterloggedComputron [WC] ceased pestering forteHolder [FH] --
Ughhhh. Tweak wonders why he even talks to the guy.
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Post by ch00beh on Oct 6, 2010 11:36:21 GMT -5
Tweak shakes off that dumb conversation and gets back to Flynn's story. ... Oh my God. ... This is wonderful. The cacophony words and letters seem random, but the redundancies and formatting create a beautiful tapestry of diction that few could appreciate. This is probably why Tweak still talks to the guy. The young man considers taking off his sunglasses for a moment to fully comprehend the newest chapter. Wait, no. Can't take off the glasses or else there would be dire consequences. Maybe. Tweak: Send away for some medieval power armor like the dude in the game. That's coming in tomorrow already. It's not like anything bad will happen between now and then, right? Tweak is pretty excited for when he gets to talk like a macho knight, a steel fortress on feet. Teeth grind and grit, perpetually shut. With strength of ten men, he would be elite. T'would be so amazing. At least somewhat.Tweak remembers that his Trenchcoat of Noir needs to get hung up. He captchalogues the garment and heads inside the closet then captchalogues a spare hangar such that it lands in the same bag as the trenchcoat. He decides to spare the author the hash mathematics, and just combines the two items right there, creating a hanging trenchcoat, then hangs it up properly. Upon turning around, Tweak notices the Red Scarf of Romance. Hmm... he wraps it around his neck and— Tweak falls into a beautiful memory.
It was a dark and stormy night. The young man sits in his kitchen, drinking hot cocoa that he had just made from scratch when the doorbell rings. What could have possibly come at a time like that?
The young man remembers the sight that greeted him that night. A package sat on his doorstep. It was small, and it was damp, but on top it clearly said
With love, Mrs. Sostenuto
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Post by ch00beh on Oct 31, 2010 4:02:31 GMT -5
Tweak: Put on the bowler hat of slapstick and the red scarf of romance at the same time, making the combined apparel of dismal romantic comedies driven by weak physical gags a la Good Luck Chuck. Tweak gazes around his closet at the plethora of accessories and garments, his eyes eventually falling on a bowler. For a brief moment, he considers putting it on to make the combined apparel of dismal romantic comedies driven by weak physical gags a la Good Luck Chuck, but he can't remember how that movie went so it would just be a dismal imitation of a dismal comedy.Tweak tries to be Faygo, but it is impossible. Sigh.wC: Reminisce more fully about Mrs. Sostenuto. Ah, Mrs. Sostenuto... She smells of... Hey, wait, this is a private memory. Go away.WC: Eat some lunch or something, I mean goddamn. Food, of course, would be absolutely lovely, had Tweak not already eaten that beer battered steak earlier. Cultivation of culinary talents is always a good thing, so maybe soon, Tweak will have another foray into the kitchen.This is the most boring post of Househeld yet.
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Post by ch00beh on Dec 8, 2010 7:16:19 GMT -5
Removed and forgotten. Those voices in Tweak's head will need to remind him of what they wanted him to do. Tweak tosses the scarf haphazardly onto a shelf with a bunch of other narrative fashions whose descriptions and functions will be left as an exercise in imagination for anyone reading. Also the scarf isn't gay, you fag. fuck those woodland creatures. Werewolves are no joke. It's not so much that they turned all of Tweak's neighbors into weres, and it's not because some of the ones in that overgrown temple kind of look like they're on fire, and it's also not because sometimes weresquirrels attack the mailman on his deliveries (unforeseeable consequence of breaking the mailbox and installing the door slot, but hey, at least Tweak's not the one getting attacked. gg Universe); it's just that they howl a lot. Makes it really hard to sleep sometimes. ...hmm. Maybe this is where that game disc disappeared off to. Tweak steps onto his sweet-ass balcony. Just beyond the treeline, Tweak sees a humanoid shape lying on its back. A broken aluminum can, with a bit of crimson its sharp edges, lies next to the figure. Nice. Wait. Is that something else? Tweak squints his eyes and considers taking off his shades to see better, but that would just be silly. There's movement behind the trees by two other roughly humanoid figures. One of them bends down over the fallen werewolf and begins dragging it toward the trees. The other steps forward from the treeline and into the sunlight. It doesn't look quite like the traditional werewolf. First and foremost, it's fat, and it's wearing a pretty nice jacket. At least the creature has a wolf's head, and it's grinning mischievously. Tweak recognizes the body and clothes as someone who was at his last party. Woops. He warned them about wolves. He told them. Something in the were's right hand catches Tweak's eye. It clutches two paper sleeves with a green logo on them. That asshole. The werewolf howls as if mocking the young man then turns around and begins to trot into the treeline. Oh no you don't. EJECT POCKET KNIFE The knife ejects from Tweak's hashbag modus, and the awesometer comes to life to measure the weapon's use as it sails through the air. Tiny: -10 damage Bladed: +5 points Screwdrivered: +10 points Swiss engineering (or at least branding): +15 points Flying: +10 points Plausible: -20 points Uncontrolled multitool: = damage Total: 20 points Damage: RNG rolls 1 (the knife pops out midflight) creating an 11 damage blade, coming to a total of +1 damage. The knife hits the werewolf in the shoulder. It stumbles more from surprise than from pain, dropping one of the game discs. It doesn't bother picking it up and just runs farther into the forest, soon disappearing out of sight. Tweak really doesn't want to go outside, but he really wants that game. It looks so legit. He sighs and enters his room, captchaloguing the three pairs of aviators again. They're the most important (and only) things that need to be prepared before venturing forth.
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Post by ch00beh on Dec 21, 2010 10:42:50 GMT -5
Tweak: Don some piece of apparel which will allow you to traverse the dangerous woodlands in safety. The blood-crimson headband of shoot-em-up one-man-against-the-world action flicks, perhaps. Hm. Not a bad idea. Maybe planning this far won't be too bad. Tweak goes to his closet. He knows he doesn't have that specific headband, but he has something else that's kind of like that. The young man rifles through a shelf with various accessories until he pulls out a blood-crimson headband that could be from some one-man-against-the-world action flick. But it's not. It's the headband of SOLID SNAKE, given to him by his buddy randomButter. What a great birthday present. Plus, the bandana has some pretty great perks like infinite ammo. Too bad Tweak can't wield guns. Not awesome enough and too practical, except for certain circumstances where the gun is loud, proud, gigantic, and obnoxious. Tweak presses the grimy red fabric to his forehead, having never washed Solid Snake's manly sweat and blood off of it, then begins to tie it. Soon— Strife. Strife never changes.WC: Captchalogue BLOODY KNIFE. Or something captchalogue-able. The young man reaches into the pocket of his Black Trenchcoat of Noir and captchalogues out the cigarettes. He puts one one of the white cylinders in his mouth, smoke already rising from it despite not bothering with a lighter. The young man's stress gauge, which had shot up after seeing the werewolf with the Sburb discs, begins going down. Seeing as the main point of the bandana's stress gauge really only affects gun accuracy, it doesn't really matter where it is. Tweak grunts and acquiesces to the command. He jogs out his room and down the length of the pool and to the front door, the red fabric streaming behind him. Before opening the door, the young man pauses and presses his body against the wood, listening for any sounds outside. He slowly opens the door a crack to check for any movement or traps, then quickly steps outside, fists drawn. A squirrel runs by. Just a normal one, not a weresquirrel. Tweak shrugs then locks the door. He has a little trouble with his key so let's Sunlight comes down in small beams through the forest canopy. The foliage is mostly in the form of redwoods towering into the afternoon sky. The young man in the bright red bandana and classy shades continues his deliberate jog forward. In the distance he can see the temple where the weres seem to congregate. A few figures mill about, some of them emitting a glowing orange aura. Something rustles nearby. On instinct, Tweak jumps forward and rolls, the something landing heavily where the young man once was. Tweak turns around to find a snarling werewolf. It's the same one that dragged off the one he injured or killed or whatever with that can. Tweak should probably do something like beat this guy to a pulp then drug him for information on where that other guy went. STRIFE! strifeSpecibus: awesomeKind (fists) > ABHOR > ADMONISH > AGGRESS > ASCERTAIN > ABSCOND
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 2, 2011 18:02:14 GMT -5
"Look, buddy, I just want to get my game discs back. Limited edition betas, you know?" Tweak says, hands up. "My beef ain't with you."
The werewolf foams at the mouth slightly more than it had been before in response. Great. It's one of those dumb werewolves that can't talk and probably isn't sentient. Well, at least Tweak won't feel bad about killing putting it down without love.
"Just point me to where he is."
Instead of failing to speak again, the wolf takes a step back, bending its knees. Muscles ripple beneath the mangy fur as the creature's legs straighten, sending the beast flying at Tweak's face. The young man makes a face that is equal parts surprise and goddammit before jumping to the side, gnashing teeth barely missing his throat.
The young man doesn't land quite gracefully, though on his feet, but before he can regain his balance, the wolf does a turnwise flip and pounces once more. Tweak balls his right fist and hooks the beast in the face while sidestepping, but the shitty "weapon" doesn't do anything but push the attacker slightly off course. Although, the punch does seem to have made the werewolf more wary, as it now paces on all fours rather than leaping for another attack.
This fight isn't turning out very well. Suddenly cherry tapping doesn't seem like a great idea, nor does having a strifeSpecibus that's only useful when artifact weaponry exist (which they don't because this isn't some shitty video game). Maybe it's time to [Old commands unlocked]
STRIFE!
strifeSpecibus: awesomeKind (fists) > ABHOR > AGGRESS > ASSESS > ARSENALIZE > ABSCOND
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Post by ch00beh on Feb 12, 2011 18:53:16 GMT -5
Augh the werewolf looks so gross augh augh
Bluhhhhh so gross what is it even with the werewolf and its foaming jaws I mean how high do you even have to be to have mangy fur like that
Tweak keeps his fists up as he and the werewolf circle about. The young man casts his shaded eyes in all directions, ASSESSING the environment for anything that can be ARSENALIZED with his awesomeKind strife deck. Sticks and branches of various lengths and shapes lie strewn about the forest floor underneath browning needles. An old shoe and a rusted tin can sit next to a stump, and a broken arrow has stabbed a notice high up another tree trunk. Under the can's rust, the word "GLOO" can be made out. There are also a couple big rocks here and there.
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Post by ch00beh on Feb 13, 2011 21:43:30 GMT -5
Arsenalize what?
Gotcha.
The werewolf springs into action again, leaping at Tweak's face. The boy quickly ducks and dives for a stick that looks suspiciously like a sword.
ARSENALIZE STICK It's a stick: -25 points But it kind of looks like a real weapon? +3 points No, really dude, it's a stick: -50 points Total: -72 points. Drop that shit.
Tweak captchalogues the TERRIBLE STICK (bag 1, slot 2) just to spite his strife deck. He jumps to the side away from the attacking wolf and toward the tree with the arrow sticking out of it. He pries it out and tries equipping it.
Stabby: +5 points Might be ancient: + 5 points Rusted: -10 points It's like one step above a stick: -20 points Total: -20 points. Mehhhhhhhhhh
Tweak hashes the MEH ARROW, and it too lands in bag 1, taking up slot 1. The young man skips the arsenalizing of the BIG STONE, the RUSTY CAN, and the GRODY BOOT at the foot of the tree.
The young man scrambles to the side once more, avoiding the werewolf's claws. He points at the creature and EJECTS BAG 1.
All the objects that Tweak had just picked up go flying out of his sylladex and crash into the werewolf with a satisfying clash, throwing it into a tree. As the dust settles, Tweak admires the finished product: an semi-conscious werewolf glued to a tree with a boot over its snout. The stick and stone hit him somewhere and bounced off onto the ground, and the arrow seemed to have clattered off somewhere uselessly. Whatever.
Suddenly, the young man remembers that he completely forgot his laptop in his room, so he can't install the server disc while adventuring, nor can he communicate with his friends. Fiddlesticks. Go back home for it or keep going to the temple to get that Sburb disc? I mean, we're not pressed for time at the moment or anything. Not like the world's gonna end.
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Post by ch00beh on Mar 6, 2011 22:18:34 GMT -5
WC: You really need that disc. Okay. Tweak: Screw the disc, you've got chums to pester. Go back home! Oh. But— Okay fine. Everything should turn out fine anyway by just going to the temple. Tweak: Whatever you do, wear GRODY BOOT as a hat. Um. Okay. Tweak gingerly picks up the boot and examines the sun-dried, cracked leather before placing it on his head as a hat and — Man, this is a great place, this forest, that I'm wandering around alone in with the tall green pines and all the light and yeah. I guess I'll just move over that way but I should probably store some things before moving. I pick up the TERRIBLE STICK and the BIG STONE because they seem useful and put them in a bag, man. I wish I had a shopping cart modus right now, man. Alright here I go through the bright sun and to the temple and man when did my red bandana get so grimy it must be the boot. I should take this off but man I can just keep walking toward that temple and be fine, man.
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Post by ch00beh on May 20, 2011 21:24:04 GMT -5
> Reaffirm that you are still alive
Yeah man, I've just been shooting the shit with this werewolf dude. He doesn't talk much, but hey he's a pretty good listener and shit, man. Been listening to me going on about dorky day. It's good when people listen to you, man.
I feel like I had something to do, man, but you know, it can wait for a bit. This dude is pretty chill.
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Post by ch00beh on Jun 13, 2011 1:25:10 GMT -5
>ch00bs: end hiatus > Accessorize OOC: happy 6/12 motherfuckers
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Post by ch00beh on Aug 8, 2011 15:41:37 GMT -5
> Tweak: BeholdHuh. Never got this close before.Tweak drops his Baby Giant's Club on top of one werewolf bodies he had beat senseless a moment ago. He might've been able to momentarily fool his awesomeKind specibus with some onomastic finagling, but the more he used the big sti— I mean Baby Giant's Club, the more it became apparent that the thing was not terribly special, aside from being a fresh sapling ripped out of the ground. Besides, everyone knows that a weapon can't be that awesome if the hero carries it everywhere, unless it's got a special name that's been passed on for at least two generations. Tweak takes one last look at the temple and figures it's as good a place as any to look for the disc. As he's about to leave, Tweak notices that one of the werewolves was wearing shorts that were so torn up they almost blended in perfectly with its fur. Base gamer instincts kick in and in seconds, Tweak is rummaging through the beast's pockets. Suddenly his hand falls comes across something that feels manufactured, and pulls it out revealing a dirt caked Droid. He presses a button, and the screen briefly flickers to life before turning off, apparently due to battery issues. Damn smartphones and their egregious battery usage. Tweak captchalogues the DROID anyway. Maybe there's a charging station in the temple.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 20, 2011 12:18:18 GMT -5
Tweak considers ripping out one of the werewolves' jaws to use as a weapon. He starts to do the AWESOME math in his head, but he quickly gives up because math is hard. Instead he points at the jaw and gives the command to equip it to his specibus.
Taken from a fallen enemy of worth: 30 Grievous harm with a body: 20 Not actually the entire body: -20 Gross: -50 Total: -10
Nope.
What is that thing anyway? How is it even floating like that? As far as Tweak's concerned, magic doesn't exist. Unless it does. Tweak suddenly realizes he's totally fine with the idea of magic existing. He shrugs and doesn't feel like inspecting the thing from so far away without any kind of teloscopic or binocularic implements. Maybe when he gets to the temple he can check it out.
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